Christmas at Lake Tahoe
by monica20
Summary: An Archer and T'Pol romance fic, set during Christmas 2155. Chapter 8 online.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Paramount, Star Trek and UPN own the characters.

FEEDBACK: Greatly appreciated. Either here or email me.

SUMMARY: An Archer/T'Pol romance fic set during Christmas 2155. This takes place approximately 11 months after the season 4 episode _Terra Prime. _ It's set on Earth, in Lake Tahoe, California.

**

* * *

Christmas at Lake Tahoe**

**Chapter 1**

_Christmas Eve 2155_  
**  
**Jonathan smiled as he watched Porthos sleep, all curled up by the fire. It was beginning to die down so he threw another log into the fireplace and watched the flames as they flickered to life. He warmed his hands briefly. He leaned back against the sofa, crossed his legs and sipped at his sherry.

He felt mellow and relaxed. Playing in the background was a favourite Christmas song of his — Carol of the Bells, performed by the New York Philharmonic. Outside the snow continued to fall relentlessly from the heavens, blanketing the area in a carpet of snow. There was no need to worry about not having a White Christmas.

As he watched the flames dance he found himself thinking about the past. This Christmas was different; it was quiet, relaxed and the first one he'd spent on Earth in a long time.

Two years ago he'd been in the Expanse. In trying to locate the Xindi weapon he hadn't given the holidays much thought. Chef had organized a Christmas dinner for the crew, but he hadn't attended. And last year they'd had celebrations aboard the ship, but he'd been distracted by their mission to the Berengarius system. Most of Christmas day was spent in his Ready Room reading over the data Starfleet had sent.

Tonight there were no reports or duty rosters to read. Instead, he and the rest of the crew had been granted two weeks shore leave whilst Enterprise's systems were upgraded. They'd been called back to Earth for a retrofit. This could have been done in February or March but Gardner had told him in confidence that he'd moved it up so the crew would have a chance to spend the holidays on Earth. He thought it would be a good way of lifting crew morale.

Archer had agreed — T'Pol herself had mentioned to him a few weeks previous that the crew's efficiency was down by several percent and that shore leave was in order. They hadn't had a break or been back to Earth since the Terra Prime incident eleven months ago.

However there was a downside to him spending Christmas on Earth — it meant spending it alone. Why did this bother him? It wasn't as if he was the most social animal on board Enterprise. Recalling the last two Christmases he'd practically spent them alone. Maybe it was because even though he'd been alone, there were people all around the ship and he'd been secure in the knowledge that if he had wanted company he could have sought it out.

After Gardner had given him the order to return to Earth he'd tried to decide what to do with all the spare time he'd have on his hands. His first idea was to remain in San Francisco. He could catch up on some reading, pore over some starcharts — that sort of thing.

Word has spread quickly that Starfleet's flagship was returning home, and he'd received a few invites. An old friend from Stanford had got in touch and invited him up to Seattle; another was from an aunt in upstate New York who he hadn't seen since he was seven. Rebecca had sent a note, inviting him to Christmas dinner with her family. He appreciated her kindness, but didn't want to intrude. She was married now and had her own life. He doubted her husband would have wanted an ex-boyfriend at the dinner table. Besides, it would have been weird…

In the end he'd decided to come up here. He'd bought this house not long after graduating from flight school. He'd had his eye on it even when he'd been dating Margaret, thinking it would be a great weekend retreat. It was only a 2-hour drive or a short shuttlepod ride from San Francisco. It was a small vacation home — 2 bed, 2 bath, living room and kitchen. It was nothing extravagant — but great for a weekend away. And the location was ideal — lakefront.

But he'd never used it much. Once he'd got involved in the NX-Project he'd never seemed to have any spare weekends. Then when he'd become captain of Enterprise he'd decided to rent it out and employed a leasing agency to take care of it. The current lease had run out 2 months ago and the place, while kept up by the agency, had remained empty.

His eyes roved around the room and he smiled to himself. This place had a homey feel about it, more so than his apartment back in the city. In the far corner of the room was a piano that had been taken out of storage when Jonathan had purchased the house and transported up here. It had originally come from the house of Henry Archer, and been put in storage after his father died. It had been a gift for him from his father on his 10th birthday. After Henry died he didn't feel like playing it much.

But they say time heals all wounds…and by his 20s he'd regained his enthusiasm for playing the piano. There was no room for it in his San Francisco abode, so bringing it up here seemed ideal. He might try playing a few tunes on it tomorrow, he thought.

Overall, it had seemed a good idea to come up here. He could get a little skiing in if he wanted, take a boat out on the lake, or even try his hand at poker at the nearby casino on the Nevada side. South Lake Tahoe was a great place to spend a few days.

He refilled his empty glass with more sherry and wondered what his shipmates were up to. He knew Trip was in Florida with his family. He wondered if T'Pol had accompanied him. He presumed she had. Neither one of them had actually informed him of the status quo of their relationship but he guessed that they were together.

Malcolm had reluctantly travelled to Malaysia to visit his parents. Travis and Hoshi had departed on a trip to the Grand Canyon, hoping to walk from the south rim to the north rim, staying overnight at the famous Phantom Ranch. Phlox had returned to Denobula to spend some time with his three wives.

It seemed everyone had someplace to go — family to be with. He was the only one who was truly alone. Times like this he wished he hadn't been an only child — it might have been nice to have a younger brother or sister. It didn't bother him when he was on Enterprise — he considered the crew his family, but right how he felt a little isolated.

Tomorrow he'd feel differently; he'd be too busy enjoying the view and the fresh air on his skin as he tried out the surrounding ski slopes.

He heard the antique grandfather clock in the hallway chime in the new day. It was midnight; Christmas Day had arrived.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered to Porthos.

* * *

Jonathan stared out onto the lake from his living room window. It was a glorious morning — the sun was shining, it was no longer snowing and the sky was a cloudless brilliant blue. 

He had breakfast and then opened up the presents some of the crew had given him before they'd all gone their separate ways. The senior staff minus Trip and T'Pol had gathered together at the 602 Club for a Christmas drink a few nights ago. Hoshi had collected all the neatly wrapped up parcels for the captain and handed them over to him, on the strict condition that he wouldn't open them until Christmas morning. He'd give her his word of honor. Now he looked them over and wondered which one to open first.

He'd made sure the entire crew received gift certificates from him — it was impossible to buy individual gifts for a crew of almost 90. For members of the senior staff he'd bought personal gifts — a book on homeopathy for Phlox who'd been researching this form of alternative medicine, a computer game based on the film _Star Wars_ for Malcolm and a model of Cochrane's ship _Phoenix_ for Travis. For Hoshi he'd bought a silver chain and matching earrings and a bottle of the finest bourbon for Trip.

T'Pol's gift had been a little more complicated. Gardner had given him a month's notice of the retrofit so it had given him time to organize something. He'd contacted a jeweller's in the Vulcan capital of Shi'kahr asking them for advice on Vulcan jewellery. With the shop owner's help he'd picked out a gemstone called Z'liuma that was reminiscent of an Earth ruby and asked for a necklace to be made from it. The item was to be delivered to Jonathan's Earth address.

He'd been disappointed to discover that the necklace hadn't arrived in time and that it probably wouldn't be delivered until after the New Year.

Well it didn't really matter now…he could give it to her when they re-boarded Enterprise. After ordering it he'd had second thoughts. Was it appropriate for him to be buying jewellery for his chief engineer's girlfriend? That is if she was. But he assumed they'd both see it as a gesture of friendship.

Turning his attention to his own gifts he opened the one from Hoshi; careful not to rip the shiny golden paper she'd wrapped it in. He smiled as he gazed at what she'd bought for him. It was a revised edition of the astronomy book his father had given him when he was eight. When they'd seen the Arachnid Nebula for themselves it was discovered that it was in fact 8 billion kilometres in diameter, not 6.5 as the book had originally stated. Hoshi had made some remark about sending the readings to the publisher so they could put out a revised edition, but he'd thought nothing more of it. It seemed she really had done that.

Malcolm had given him the latest sci-fi thriller by one of his favourite authors. He'd have plenty of time up here to read it. Travis had bought him a music disc — a collection of classical pieces by Mozart, Chopin and Vivaldi. Next he opened Trip's gift which he guessed the engineer had passed onto Hoshi before he'd left for Florida. It was a diving mask with a note attached — for our next dive in the Keys.

Phlox had also included a gift — a bottle of expensive cologne. His note said he'd been told this brand was just the ticket for attracting the ladies. Jonathan laughed at the thought of Phlox in some department store being served by an overzealous sales assistant who would tell Phlox anything in an attempt to reach her monthly target.

With all the packages opened, he collected up the paper they'd been wrapped in and neatly folded it away. Then he remembered an unopened package in the bedroom, which he went to retrieve.

"Hey boy," he called to Porthos, as he returned to the living room. "Hoshi told me this one's for you." The dog trotted up to his master to investigate what the fuss was about. Jonathan opened it up to reveal a dog coat made from wool. "This will come in handy up here, won't it?" Porthos cocked his head to the side. "Wanna go for a walk and try it out?" The dog barked in agreement.

Jonathan placed the coat over Porthos' back and went to retrieve his ski jacket. Despite the sun's warming rays the temperature remained in the low 20s outside. It was prudent to wrap up warm. Putting on his scarf, gloves and jacket he then attached Porthos' leash to his collar and they exited out the door together.

His house fronted the lake and they walked along the trail that followed the water's edge and led into town. Jonathan's feet crunched against the snow as he inhaled the mountain air, which was icy with a slight hint of pine. It was breathtakingly beautiful here; he was glad of his choice in coming here. He just wished he had someone to share it with. Well at least he had Porthos…

It wasn't like him to be melancholic. Running a starship kept him so busy he didn't have time to get depressed or blue. At the end of the day he was normally too tired to even think.

Now he could think to his heart's content, and he found his thoughts turning to T'Pol and what might have been. He imagined she'd like it up here — she appreciated beauty. He could imagine her saying how the lake and mountains were aesthetically pleasing.

There'd been a time, about three years ago when he'd believed she might return his feelings. But that was before the Expanse…

She'd been on board Enterprise less than a year when he'd become aware of his attachment to his Vulcan first officer. At the time he'd tried to ignore his own feelings, telling himself it was exactly what Phlox diagnosed — sexual attraction. It wasn't until he discovered she was suffering from Pa'nar syndrome that he allowed himself to acknowledge that he was in love with her.

But he'd never told her; he didn't deem it appropriate. That didn't stop him wishing that secretly she felt the same way. Her concern for him over A.G.'s death had been touching, and fed the hope that one day she might feel more. One of his fondest memories was watching the dark matter nebula come alive before his eyes, with T'Pol at his side.

Then the Xindi attacked Earth and everything changed. He pulled away from everyone, especially T'Pol. By the time the mission was over, he was a different man. During that time, while he'd isolated himself from everyone, his chief engineer and first officer had sought solace in each other's arms.

He didn't blame them — he was sure they weren't the only couple on board who had done so. At first he'd thought it had been a fling or one nightstand — though he knew nothing of the particulars. War did strange things to people.

They seemed an unlikely couple — T'Pol had always appeared to display disdain for Tucker. At times he'd worried they would never come to like each other. Well he didn't need to worry about that anymore, the Expanse had seen to that.

Being so engrossed in the mission, he hadn't given their relationship much thought. Technically it was against Starfleet regulations — Trip reported directly to T'Pol. In other circumstances he might have politely reminded them of the rules. However he'd had far more pressing matters to deal with. And then he'd pondered what he would have done in Trip's shoes. Would he have turned the beautiful Vulcan down because of regulations?

Their relationship wasn't bought to the fore until they'd encountered Lorian and the second Enterprise. Then the facts spoke for themselves — the T'Pol and Trip of the other timeline had been husband and wife and their union had produced a son.

He didn't know if the Trip and T'Pol of his timeline were in love or wanted to get married, but felt it wasn't his business. If either one of them wanted to confide in him, they would have.

When he'd heard that Trip had accompanied T'Pol to Vulcan, after the Xindi mission had ended, he wondered if she'd taken him to get her mother's approval on her choice of mate. When news of T'Pol's wedding on Vulcan had first filtered though, his initial thought was that she'd married Tucker. It wasn't until he met up privately with T'Pol upon her return that she informed him she'd married Koss.

Soon after their mission to The Forge her marriage had been dissolved and he'd assumed that Trip and T'Pol picked up from where they left off. So it was more than likely to think that she was in Florida with Trip's family at this moment.

So whatever feelings he had…well they'd always be unrequited. If the Xindi attack hadn't happened, if he hadn't pushed her away perhaps it would have been different. But there was no point dwelling on the past. He hoped she and Trip would be happy together.

After a twenty-minute walk Jonathan turned around and headed back towards the house. He hoped to get some skiing in this afternoon after lunch. Porthos seemed in a hurry to get back; Jonathan hoped it wasn't because he was cold.

They turned the corner away from the water, and headed up the steps to the house. Jonathan opened the door, undid Porthos' leash and the dog rushed in. He locked the door and went to find his dog. Porthos was sitting by the fire, warming himself up.

"So you were a little cold, huh boy?"

The dog barked back. "How about some cheese to warm you up?"

The animal recognized the word cheese and began to bark and wag his tail madly. Jonathan went into the kitchen and took some cheese out of the refrigerator. Porthos eagerly followed.

After feeding his dog several cubes of cheese, Jonathan made himself a sandwich. He sat down in the living room to eat it, turning the television on. He flicked through the channels until he came to the Weather Channel — the forecast was excellent and the skiing conditions perfect.

He placed his plate in the sink; he could wash it up later and went to change into  
his ski suit.

* * *

He rented a pair of skis and boots from the sports shop situated right next to the gondola. Then he queued up to board the Heavenly Mountain Resort Gondola that would take him to the top of the 10,000ft mountain. 

The 2.4-mile journey took less than 10 minutes. As the altitude changed he remembered to blow his ears; something his mother had reminded him to do the first time he'd ever taken a ride in a cable car or gondola. That had been in Palm Springs — Sally Archer had finally persuaded her husband to take some time off from the Warp 5 Project and they'd travelled south to the desert resort for a few days. Jonathan, who'd been five years old at the time, had found the whole trip very exciting.

He'd been intrigued by the facts and figures and read up on them as they'd waited to board the aerial tramway. His mother had sat by and smiled, muttering something about him being his father's son.

He was awoken from his memories as the gondola doors opened. He stepped onto the moving platform and then exited to the skiing area. He felt the change in temperature keenly — the elevation change was over 2000ft. He surveyed the surrounding area, it was covered in snow packed powder. There was a tinge of excitement in his belly. He just hoped he wasn't rusty — it had been years since he'd been skiing.

He studied the trail map and decided to begin with an intermediate slope. He'd been on black runs before, but he didn't want to chance one today as he was out of practice.

Jonathan took in the beauty that surrounded him; it was awe-inspiring. The mountains were covered in a white blanket of snow. At the foot of the mountains he spied the lake. The waters looked a sapphire color from his elevation. Heavenly Valley lived up to its name — it had a heavenly feel about it.

He breathed in the cool mountain air and slowly exhaled. Having admired the scenery long enough he decided it was time to take to the slopes. He pushed his ski poles into the snow and propelled himself forward.

The slope was steep and his speed was fast. It was exhilarating, the cold mountain air rushing passed his face, the trees blurring out of focus as he whizzed by them on his journey to the bottom. He was having fun. All too quickly he was at the bottom. He felt his heart racing from the adrenaline rush.

This was fun, and he wasn't as out of practice as he'd thought. He skied over to the chair lift to take him to another peak.

After two hours he decided to take a break — the cold had started to nip at him. A nice cup of hot coffee ought to do the trick and warm him up a bit. He skied over to one of the mountain cafes that were dotted across the resort. Removing his skies, he ambled inside.

The smell of coffee and hot food greeted him. He realized he was hungry as well as cold — he'd only had one sandwich for lunch and skiing had given him a real appetite. He ordered a cheeseburger, large fries, a large mug of coffee and a hot apple pie for dessert from the self-service section.

He found an unoccupied table and transferred the food from his tray to the table. Sitting down he began to dig in. A few moments later he was interrupted by a female voice.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

He looked up and saw a woman with short blond hair and blue eyes smiling down at him. She seemed vaguely familiar but he couldn't place her. He'd had a hard time finding an unoccupied table himself — the place was very busy, so he guessed she hadn't found one at all.

"No," he answered. "Take a seat."

"Thanks," she answered, sitting down. "It's Captain Archer, isn't it?"

"Err…yes," he answered, hating to be recognized. "How do you know me?"

"I'm Commander Collins. I work for Starfleet Security. We met a few months ago when Doctor Phlox was abducted by the Rigellians."

"Oh yes, I remember now."

"The skiing's great, isn't it?" she asked.

He nodded; he didn't want to speak with his mouthful. After he'd swallowed he answered. "Yeah ideal conditions. You on leave from Starfleet then?"

"Yeah…I got a friend to cover my shifts over the holiday period. I booked this vacation months ago — my sister was supposed to meet me up here, but she had to cancel at the last minute — some emergency at work."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Not much fun being alone on the holidays, but at least the skiing's top notch. Oh and I won 1000 credits on the slot machine in my hotel last night — that was fun!"

"Congratulations. You're staying on the Nevada side?"

"Yeah in Stateline. And you?"

"I have a house here in town."

"Sounds nice," she remarked. "You here with friends or family?""Nope, it's just me and Porthos." She gave him a puzzled expression. "My dog," he explained.

"Oh. Cute name — guess you're a fan of the Dumas novel."

He smiled but didn't answer; instead he finished off his cheeseburger.

"Listen, since we're both up here alone, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Jonathan shifted in his chair — he felt a little uncomfortable. Was she asking him out on a date or was it just two colleagues having dinner? He was out of practice when it came to this kind of thing.

"Err…sure I guess…why not?" He'd wanted to say no, but didn't wish to appear rude.

"Great, why don't you come by the Tahoe Lodge at around 7pm?"

"Sounds good," he answered as he gathered his empty plate and coffee mug to return to the area for dirty dishes.

"Captain, do you mind if I call you Jonathan?"

"Not at all," he answered nervously.

"Great, and I'm Sarah."

"I'll see you tonight, Sarah," he said and got up to return the dishes. Coming back to the table he slipped on his ski jacket and bid her goodbye for the time being.

* * *

He stayed out on the slopes until sunset. The resort offered night skiing, but not over the holidays. From the 27th onwards one could ski up until midnight as the trails were lit. Jonathan had planned to stay up here until after the New Year, so he definitely planned to try out the night skiing. 

He returned to the house, showered and changed. Did he have to dress up for this dinner with Sarah? He wasn't quite sure. Hopefully a sweater and a pair of black pants would do, he hadn't brought anything smart. He picked out his black polo neck, then wondered if maybe he'd look too much like a cat burglar. An ex-girlfriend had told him once that black was very becoming, so he shrugged off the idea of looking like a burglar and slipped the polo neck on.

It was only 5:30pm, he had around 90 minutes to kill. Well a little less, he'd take a taxi to the hotel around 6:40pm, giving himself plenty of time to get there. He crossed over to the computer terminal in the living room and tapping in a few keys ordered a taxi for that time.

In the meantime he retrieved Malcolm's gift — the sci-fi thriller and made a start on it. He sat down on the sofa and opened the hardback book. Porthos, who'd just finished eating, hopped up and joined him.

The next hour passed quickly as he found himself engrossed in the story line. Glancing at the clock he noted it was 6:30pm. He closed the book, leaving it on the coffee table and made his way into the bathroom. He combed his hair and made sure he looked presentable.

Twenty-five minutes later he was walking into the lobby of the Tahoe Lodge. It looked like a hunting lodge of old — the area was heavily decorated in oak. The head of a stag was hung over the large stone fireplace. There was a stuffed grizzly by the fireplace in a standing pose, as if it was about to attack. He guessed it had been caught in Alaska and brought down here, he didn't think grizzlies were native to this area.

He asked a young man at the reception desk where the restaurant was. He was told to walk straight ahead down the corridor and it was the 2nd on the right, after the casino. He thanked the guy and made his way there.

Sarah was already seated at a table near the window that looked out onto the lake.

"Right on time," she said, as he sat down across from her. "I like a man who's punctual."

"Wouldn't be much of a Starfleet captain if I wasn't." He smiled at her, feeling a little nervous. This did feel like a date, and he wasn't sure if he was keen on that idea. He rather it was a dinner between two acquaintances.

The waiter handed them the menus, and Jonathan perused them. He decided to go for something non-traditional — he didn't feel like turkey or ham, so he chose the grilled salmon fillet. Sarah ordered the turkey and a bottle of red wine for both of them.

"Oh I'm sorry, I ordered without asking if you like red wine."

"Yes, that's fine," he answered. "I'll just make sure I don't drink too much."

"Doesn't agree with you?"

"Too many glasses and I'll end up with a bad headache."

"That can happen with cheaper brands — it might not be the case with this one."

"Perhaps. You a wine connoisseur?"

"I've spent a fair amount of time up in Napa. My father's a vintner. I think he'd hoped I carry on with the family business and was dismayed when I applied to join Starfleet."

"Always been based on Earth?"

"Yes. You probably don't remember, but I applied for Lieutenant's Reed's position when you were selecting a crew for Enterprise."

It seemed like years ago now, and he'd had to plough through so many applications at the time for all the different crew positions, it had been mind-boggling. In the end he'd had A.G. and Admiral Forrest help him out. "Sorry, I don't recall. But you wouldn't believe how many people were trying for a position on Enterprise."

"I can imagine."

"Did you ever apply again for a shipboard position?"

"Yes, with Captain Hernandez, but I never heard back. I guess I'm destined to keeping Earth safe," she laughed.

"That's not a bad job."

"But it's not exploring space."

"No, but there are advantages."

She appeared surprised by his comment. Their meal was served and the waiter filled their wineglasses with an expensive Merlot. Jonathan sampled it, and complimented Sarah on her choice.

Both of them were hungry, so tucked in eagerly. "How's the salmon?"

"Delicious," he answered. He didn't remember it saying in the menu that it would be in a pesto sauce, but that only added to the flavour. He enquired as to Sarah's meal and she answered that it was most satisfactory.

For some reason her reply reminded him of T'Pol — most satisfactory almost sounded like something the Vulcan would say. He wondered what his first officer was doing. Was she out on some beach with Trip walking along the water's edge? Or was she being polite and kind while she listened to the ruckus the Tucker clan made? He imagined how out of place she would feel surrounded by Trip's extroverted, excitable cousins, aunts and uncles.

"Jonathan, may I ask you a question?"

"Sure, fire away."

"You said earlier there are advantages to being stationed on Earth…perhaps you could elaborate?"

"Oh that…hmm." He took a sip of wine. "Well there's more chance of having a personal life…that is if you want one."

"And that was all you meant?"

"Well I think it's all individual. Some people, even though they think the exploration of space is new and exciting, after a few months out amongst the stars begin to miss home. I've seen it happen with a few crewmembers. So for people like that…well I think they are better off stationed on Earth."

"I understand."

Sarah continued to pepper him with questions throughout the evening — and he obliged with tales of some of Enterprise's first missions.

"She turned into a slug?" she chuckled, in response to his tale of the mystery woman who'd actually been a wraith on the rogue planet.

"Well that's the only way I can think of describing the creature. But life comes in all shapes and sizes out there."

"Sounds exciting."

After dessert Sarah asked if he'd like to go for a walk around the lake. He'd decided that his fears had been unfounded and that this had merely been a dinner between Starfleet colleagues. He'd enjoyed her company, and it had taken his mind off being alone. He suggested they go back to the house. He could show her around and she could meet Porthos. Besides, the view of the lake was better from his house than here at the hotel.

She enthusiastically agreed, and they took a taxi back to his place.

It was 9pm when they arrived back at the house. They stepped out of the taxi and walked up the drive. It was dark and Jonathan's hadn't turned on the porch light, but he was sure he could make a figure out standing by his door. As he got closer the silhouette seemed familiar. Surely it couldn't be? What would she be doing here?

"Good evening, Captain." The voice was very familiar.

The figure stepped out of the shadows. "T'Pol?" he asked, astonished.

"I apologize for turning up like this uninvited."

"No, it's okay. Is everything all right?" He couldn't think of any reason for T'Pol's appearance except an emergency. "Let's get inside, it's freezing out here." He slipped in the keycard for the front door and all three of them stepped inside.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Christmas at Lake Tahoe**

**Chapter 2**

Once they'd entered the house Jonathan repeated his earlier question. He asked T'Pol if everything was all right. She assured him everything was fine, but was not forthcoming as to the reason for her visit. Jonathan assumed she'd tell him later, in private.

After everyone had removed their jackets and coats, he introduced the two women to each other.

"It's nice to finally meet you Commander T'Pol," Sarah told the Vulcan, her voice full of admiration.

T'Pol nodded in agreement. She felt uncomfortable not having anticipated the captain to have company. "I don't mean to intrude on the two of you. I can return in the morning, when it's more convenient, Captain."

"Why don't we all go sit down?" he invited, leading the way to the living room. The evening had taken an unexpected turn. This morning he'd expected to spend it all alone and now he found himself entertaining two females.

T'Pol followed him with hesitation and seated herself on the sofa. Sarah stood by the fireplace, studying the ornaments on the mantelpiece. "If you two need to discuss ship's business, I can make myself scarce."

"No, it's nothing like that," T'Pol explained, continuing to feel awkward. "I don't wish to intrude," she repeated.

"You're not," Jonathan answered. T'Pol looked up at Sarah and wondered if she echoed the captain's sentiments. On the exterior she seemed friendly enough — but humans were often polite on the surface. It was difficult to gauge their true feelings sometimes.

"What can I get you ladies to drink?" Jonathan asked, enjoying the role of host. "Sarah, how about some sherry?"

"That would be great, thanks."

"T'Pol, would you like some?""No thank you, Captain." She stood up off the sofa and apologized once again for intruding, explaining that she'd speak to the captain in the morning, and walked down the corridor towards the front door.

"Excuse me for a minute, Sarah," Jonathan said, then followed in T'Pol's direction.

T'Pol was already putting on her coat when he caught up with her. "T'Pol, there's no need to leave."

"It was rude and inconsiderate of me to turn up without giving you adequate notice."

"I don't mind. Did something happen? Is Trip okay?"

She wasn't sure why he was asking about Trip. "I believe so, Captain."

"I thought you were in Florida."

"No, I've been in San Francisco staying with Ambassador Soval and his family."

"Really? I had no idea. I just assumed…oh well guess I was wrong. So what brings you here?"

"Nothing of consequence."

"You're gonna disappear into the night without even telling me why you made the journey up here?"

She was on unfamiliar ground. She wanted to explain without incriminating herself, but didn't know how. Trip had assured her the captain would be staying on his own up at the lake. He'd added that Archer would probably be lonely and enjoy the company. She'd uncharacteristically decided at the last minute this evening to take a shuttlepod and fly up here to see him. Now it didn't appear to be a sound choice.

"The reason doesn't exist anymore."

"Want to decipher that one for me?" Jonathan asked, with a twinkle in his eye. "Come on T'Pol, what's the big secret?"

"There is no secret. I don't feel comfortable barging in on you and Commander Collins. You obviously have plans for this evening, and it would be impolite to interfere with them."

"I think you're reading into something that isn't there," he said, gripping her shoulders gently. "Why don't you stay?"

On the inside he could barely suppress the excitement at her appearance. And now learning that she hadn't been in Florida with Trip was an added bonus. There were so many things he wanted to ask her.

"I don't wish—"

"If you say intrude once more, I may just lose my patience," he teased. "Stay, T'Pol."

There was a pleading note to his voice and she genuinely believed he wished her to remain; so removed her coat.

They rejoined Sarah in the living room who'd been getting better acquainted with Porthos. Jonathan explained that T'Pol was going to join them for a drink after all.

"Glad to hear that, Commander," Sarah said.

"Please call me T'Pol."

"Sure thing."

"He's a cute dog," Sarah called out to Jonathan as he poured the drinks. "Have you had him since he was a puppy?"

"Yeah," he answered carrying in the drinks. He handed one glass to Sarah and another to T'Pol. "He was six weeks old when I brought him home with me. He was a timid little thing at first, but within a week or so I'd gained his trust."

"This is alcohol," T'Pol stated as she sniffed her glass.

"Well I thought you might try it," Jonathan answered. "You've had alcohol before."

"Is it very strong?"

"About 15, a little stronger than wine. Its called sherry."

"I see." She sampled a little. It was exceedingly sweet, unlike wine that she'd tasted before.

"Not to your liking?" Sarah asked.

"It's fine."

Jonathan sat down on the sofa and was immediately joined by Sarah. T'Pol seated herself in the armchair to the side of them. There was an awkward silence at first. T'Pol felt certain that Sarah wished she'd left. It was obvious the commander had wanted to be alone with the captain. She continued to feel like she was intruding…but reminded herself that Jonathan had insisted.

"Jonathan was telling me about some of your missions earlier at dinner." Sarah made the first attempt at breaking the silence.

"Oh." T'Pol felt at a loss when it came to small talk.

"Do you have a favourite?" Sarah asked the Vulcan.

"No."

"Jonathan, what about you?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have a favourite mission?" Sarah repeated.

He hadn't heard her the first time as he'd been gazing at T'Pol; she looked so lovely tonight. If he wasn't mistaken she was wearing more makeup than usual. Her eyelids bore a darker shade of eye shadow than normal, highlighting her luminescent green eyes. Her lips were glossy, adorned with a deep wine color lipstick.

She was dressed very much like a human woman — in black slacks and a grey wool jumper. She'd probably dressed for practical reasons — her uniform or Vulcan robes would not have kept her sufficiently warm up here in the mountains. But there was no logical reason for the extra makeup.

"Oh…umm…I'd have to think about that. I enjoyed the Akaali homeworld, it was almost like going back in time."

"Sounds nice…I have a friend who's a huge history buff. I'm sure she would have enjoyed something like that."

"Yeah."

"Jonathan, why don't we take that walk around the lake you suggested earlier?"

T'Pol gathered she wasn't invited.

"Okay…T'Pol, you coming?"

"No, Captain. I'll let you two enjoy the cold all by yourselves. This climate isn't really for me."

"All right." Jonathan wasn't going to argue with her, besides after Sarah left he'd have her all to himself and maybe finally he could get some answers.

* * *

T'Pol paced the living room after they left, chiding herself for acting illogically and without thought. Ambassador Soval had been a gracious host and most accommodating, as had his wife. But she'd felt like she was imposing. The Ambassador had had a few days leave from the Consulate and she felt guilty for disturbing the private time he probably wished to spend with his wife and family. 

The night before Enterprise had returned to Earth, she'd sat with Trip in the Mess Hall discussing their separate plans. He was going to Florida. There was going to be a large family get together — the largest one they'd had in the last ten years. When Archer had announced that Enterprise was heading back to Earth, she'd contacted Soval asking if she could stay in one of the vacant rooms at the Consulate. He wouldn't hear of it, and invited her to stay with him and his family at his residence in Sausalito.

Trip had informed her the captain was going to Lake Tahoe, and if she tired of the Ambassador's hospitality, she should go visit the captain. He didn't like the idea of the captain being alone over the holidays. He would have invited him to Florida with him, but with the large amount of family members invited, he'd assumed Jonathan would have felt uncomfortable. He'd never been one for large gatherings.

She'd asked if Archer had any family members and Trip answered no. Except for some distant relatives in upstate New York, he was basically alone.

Trip's suggestion had been in the back of her mind for the last few days, but she hadn't known how to implement it. Should she turn up unexpectedly? Or would it be prudent to contact him first? What if he wanted to be alone?  
The night before returning to Earth she'd lain in bed, clutching the address of Jonathan's house in the mountains that Trip had given her. She'd conjured up images of she and Jonathan together at some idyllic mountain lake resort and experienced a sense of excitement at the thought. How illogical!

Once settled at the Ambassador's residence, she'd tried to push any notions of joining Archer out of her head. It would appear strange if she appeared out of the blue.

But this evening she'd been unable to get the thought of Jonathan out of her mind. It was Christmas day — she knew the humans attributed great importance to this day. It was a time to be spent with loved ones and close friends. She disliked the idea of him being lonely, as Trip had insinuated, with only his quadruped for company.

She'd been non-communicative throughout dinner. So much so, Soval's wife had inquired if she was feeling ill. Vulcans didn't always converse during meals, but it appeared the ambassador and his wife had become accustomed to the human practice, after living on Earth for so many years.

She'd excused herself, collected a few things into a bag and changed into something warm. Checking her reflection in the mirror she reapplied her makeup, it had faded since the morning.

She'd contacted Lieutenant Matthews at Starfleet, who was in charge of transportation, and requested a shuttlepod for this evening. She hadn't known what to tell Soval at first. She didn't want to lie, but telling the truth wasn't a possibility either. She'd explained that Archer had contacted her and needed some specs in relation to Enterprise's retrofit and asked if she could deliver them.

The Ambassador had appeared surprised, but hadn't questioned her explanation. She was about to depart when she remembered a package wrapped in silver paper with a red ribbon attached to it sitting in the guestroom wardrobe. She retrieved it and placed it carefully in her bag. Then she headed out to Starfleet HQ to pick up the shuttlepod.

She'd arrived at Archer's house around 8pm, but found the residence unoccupied with the lights extinguished. When she'd rung the doorbell she'd heard Porthos barking, but no one had come to the door. The captain was out. She'd gone for a walk around the area, but within 10 minutes was freezing cold. She'd returned to the shuttlepod to stay warm, and tried the house again around 8:50pm. There was still no sign of him, so she paced the front porch in an attempt to keep warm.

Ten minutes later she'd heard a car drive up and spied two people getting out. She recognized the captain immediately, but not his companion. As she'd watched them approach she realized a woman was with Archer. Trip had been mistaken — the captain had not been home alone. If it had been possible she'd have disappeared without them seeing her. But it wasn't so she'd announced herself.

And now here she was — in Jonathan's house, alone. He'd put forth a flurry of questions once they were alone. What would she say? Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the front door open. She was surprised to see Jonathan walk in alone.

"Where's Commander Collins?"

"She decided to go home, said she was feeling tired. She called a cab from her communicator."

"Oh." Now she felt nervous and almost wished Sarah had stayed.

Jonathan took off his coat and shoes and joined her in the living room. She was standing by the fireplace.

"So Commander T'Pol, would you like to explain this surprise visit?" He put on his stern captainly voice and looked her straight in the eye.

Explanation time had arrived, but no words came to mind. Why hadn't she used the time alone to rehearse something? She couldn't exactly say that Trip had thought he'd be lonely.

"Did you have a pleasant walk?" It was a question to buy her some time.

"You answer my question with a question? Hmm…T'Pol my curiosity is piqued."

She heard a loud noise emanating from the hallway and enquired what it was.

"It's my antique grandfather clock. It chimes on the hour. Guess it's 10 o'clock already."

"Oh."

"You seem unusually tense, T'Pol. How about some camomile tea? That might help."

She thanked him and replied that she would like a cup.

He made his way over to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. He couldn't figure out what T'Pol was doing here and why she seemed nervous. She'd never acted this way around him before. But he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. For the time being he was just grateful that she was here and that they had an opportunity to spend some time together one on one.

"You staying at one of the local hotels?" he enquired.

"Err…I hadn't made arrangements. I need to do so."

"No need. I have a spare bedroom, why don't you use that?"

"I don't wish to impose."

"You aren't. I'm inviting you."

"Thank you for your hospitality."

She remembered the parcel in her bag and decided now would be a good time to give it to him. As he prepared the tea she went to the hallway and rummaged through her bag to find the item in question. She strolled into the kitchen and handed it to him.

"This is for you, Captain. Merry Christmas."

Jonathan was genuinely astounded. She'd never given him a Christmas gift before. "Thank you," he whispered. He unwrapped it with care; guessing it was a book. When he gazed at the cover he was amazed — The Collected Works of W B Yeats.

"You remembered," he whispered.

"It's on page 57."

"Huh?"

"The poem you love, the one your mother used to read to you."

"Ah, wow, T'Pol, I'm speechless. I love it. Thank you." His impulse was to hug her in an act of gratitude, but he didn't wish to make her uncomfortable.

Four years had almost passed since the time he'd talked to T'Pol of a poem about a girl with apple blossoms in her hair. T'Pol had an amazing memory.

"I'm glad you are pleased."

He felt a little awkward that he had nothing to give her. Should he tell her about the necklace being made or let it be a surprise when it arrived? He decided on the latter.  
He placed the book down on the kitchen counter and returned to making the tea for T'Pol. He made himself a decaf coffee.

Jonathan asked if she preferred to be in the kitchen or living room. She answered kitchen and they pulled up the stools and sat around the kitchen table with their hot drinks.

"So…" Jonathan began.

"Yes?"

"This is a wonderful surprise, T'Pol."

"The gift?"

"The book is great, and an amazing surprise. But I was referring to you turning up like this out of the blue."

"I should have contacted you beforehand."

"It's okay — it wasn't as if I had plans."

"But Sarah?"

"I bumped into her today while I was out skiing. She asked me to dinner and since I didn't have anything else on my schedule I agreed. We had a fun evening and I invited her back here to see the house and go for a walk. It was just a friendly evening between Starfleet colleagues."

"Of course. I understand, Captain." It wasn't as if he owed her an explanation anyway. But she was glad she hadn't barged in on something of a romantic nature. "I hope she didn't leave on my account." She tried her camomile tea and managed to burn her tongue.

"Sorry, it's still hot, give it a couple minutes," he suggested. "So, T'Pol…we gonna continue with the small talk or you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"

"Is there something wrong with just wanting to visit you?"

"Err…no, of course not. But it is unusual. Get bored of being with Soval?" he teased.

"To be honest Captain, it was a spur of the moment decision. Also, I thought it would be polite to allow the ambassador and his wife some privacy, even though they'd been very hospitable to me."

"Spur of the moment, huh? That's not very Vulcan."

"No." She agreed with him on that point.

"If you'd said something on Enterprise we could have travelled up here together." Had she had a fight with Trip? Was that why her visit was spur of the moment?

"I realize that. Have you been enjoying yourself here?"

"It's been relaxing and quiet. Almost too quiet…maybe I'm not one for vacations; I miss the hustle and bustle of the ship. Skiing was fun. The scenery's breathtaking. So yeah I guess I've been having a good time."

She tried her tea again, this time blowing on it.

"I was convinced you were in Florida."

"Why would you think that, Captain?"

"Listen, we're off duty and you're staying overnight. Think you could call me Jonathan?"

"Yes, if you wish…Jonathan."

"Thanks."

"I'm unclear as to why you thought I was in Florida."

"Really? Well I don't mean to pry…I mean you guys never said anything about it…but well I guess I assumed…I mean it was obvious. I think most of the crew knew…and if you'd told me, I'd have just asked you to be discreet…but you never did, so I wasn't sure if…well you know—"

"Jonathan, no I don't know." What was he blabbering about?

"Oh…right. Hmm…okay. What I'm trying to say is that I thought you were in Florida…because that's where you'd want to be."

"That makes it no clearer."

"Trip — that's what I'm talking about."

T'Pol pieced it together in her head and finally understood. Jonathan thought she was involved with Commander Tucker in a romantic relationship. "You are mistaken. If I'm correct I believe you are under the misconception that I'm in a relationship with Commander Tucker — I am not."

"You aren't?"

"No."

"Tonight sure is full of surprises." He felt like opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate. However, there wasn't any in the fridge. The coffee would have to suffice for now.

"Commander Tucker and I are good friends. That is all," she added.

"It's not my business, but weren't you—"

"Yes, we were briefly involved."

She didn't divulge any further information. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. We don't have to talk about this."

"I'm not."

He finished his coffee and told her he'd go make up the guestroom for her. She asked if she could help out, he answered no. He requested that she just make herself at home and he'd be back in about ten minutes.

He opened the window in the guestroom to let it air a bit, and changed the bedclothes. "Would you like a hard or soft pillow?" he called out to her.

"Soft, please," she answered, standing in the doorway of the room. "Do you have two?"

"Yeah, no problem." He walked into his bedroom, retrieving a spare pillow from his wardrobe.

She continued to stand in the doorway while he worked. "I'm grateful for your hospitality."

"You already told me that," he smiled. He closed the window; the room was fresh enough.

"I'm reiterating my feelings."

"Okay. Well I think it's all ready for you to move in," he announced as he smoothed the comforter out.

She went to get her luggage in the hallway and returned with it, placing the bag in the wardrobe in the corner. He explained the bathroom was down the hall and asked if there was anything else she needed.

"Everything is satisfactory."

"Good."

"Are you retiring for the night?" she asked.

"No, not yet." It was only 10:30pm.

"Would you rather be alone?"

After she'd asked the question she wished she could take it back. Jonathan Archer would be the model host, whether he enjoyed it or not. He wouldn't answer the question truthfully if it meant hurting the other person. She was regretting her impulsiveness again — she didn't feel at ease.

Yet usually she was comfortable around him — he was her good friend and captain. What was the problem now?

She hadn't been aware that he still thought her and Trip were involved. She wished the whole matter hadn't been so clandestine. Archer should have been told. Though she'd never been certain what exactly she would have told him if she'd taken the opportunity. Her relationship with Trip was perplexing — the commander himself had blurted out in a moment of anger that it wasn't even that. He'd called her the queen of mixed signals. He'd never known where he stood with her.

"No. Did I give off that impression?" Jonathan asked.

"I was uncertain. Maybe I'm not good at reading you off-duty."

"Hmm…I beg to differ. I think you've always been pretty good at it," he smiled. "So what would you like to do with the remainder of the evening, that is if you aren't tired?"

Jonathan played the role of platonic friend perfectly…as if he'd rehearsed it all out. In that moment she realized it wasn't what she wanted, and her sudden impulsiveness made perfect sense. She knew why she'd come up here and why her relationship with Trip had never had a future.

"I'm not tired."

"Me neither." He suggested watching a movie.

"The piano in the living room," T'Pol said.

"What about it?"

"Do you play?"

"Yeah…but not well."

"I'd like to listen."

"I'm really out of practice," he protested.

"Oh…well if you don't wish to, I won't insist." She didn't want him to feel obligated or uneasy.

"I don't want to offend your sensitive Vulcan ears."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh okay," he sighed. "But I warned you."

They returned to the living room and he sat down by the piano. She seated herself in the armchair. "Any requests?" he asked.

"No. Play something you like."

He thought for a moment, then placed his hands on the keys and started to play.

Jonathan couldn't have been more mistaken. He played beautifully and the music was pleasing. He'd been over modest — he was an accomplished pianist. "That was enjoyable," she commented after the piece was finished. "May I ask what it was called?"

"Silent Night — it's a traditional Christmas song."

"I liked it. Can you continue?"

"You want more?"

"Please."

"Hmm…okay, let me think." There was one piece of music he'd spent weeks learning to play to impress his piano teacher on her return from vacation — Fur Elise by Beethoven. He'd been ten years old at the time. Remembering it now, he began to play and soon his fingers were flying over the keys effortlessly.

T'Pol closed her eyes concentrating on the melody. Music was similar to mathematics — complicated, challenging and intriguing. She preferred this piece to the previous one; it seemed to touch her.

"Okay, I think that's enough of the piano music for now."

"Why, Jonathan? You play very well."

"Thanks." He noted the tone of disappointment in her voice, and felt flattered. Maybe he didn't play as badly as he thought.

"It would be nice to have a piano onboard Enterprise. You could give concerts. It would make a change from movie night."

"You don't care for movie night?" he asked, teasingly.

"The choice of film often leaves a lot to be desired."

"True, I can't disagree with you there," he laughed.

"In fact, you wouldn't need a piano, one of those electronic keyboards would suffice," she said. "It could be put into storage when not used."

"T'Pol, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Well for one, I'm not really that good. And two, well I'm not one for performing before a crowd."

"You've given speeches before a large room of delegates."

"That's different — it was a duty, not a choice."

"Yes, I suppose it was."

T'Pol's reference to speeches made them both recall the last speech he'd given — on Earth after the Terra Prime incident, eleven months ago. Now she wished she hadn't recalled the incident, their mission or anything else about it.

Jonathan moved over to the lounge and sat down across from her. "I never expressed how sorry I was."

"Sorry…for what?""It couldn't have been easy losing a child."

"Jonathan, there's no—"

"No, I should have said something months ago."

She wished he hadn't brought up Elizabeth. The memory was something she wanted to put far behind her.

He continued, "I'm not good at offering sympathy and condolences. The words sound hollow."

"You don't have to say anything."

"I was your friend, I should have."

"Jonathan, please — let's change the subject." She stood up and walked over to the window. It was snowing again.

He joined her by the window, feeling remorse at bringing up a subject that was obviously distasteful to her. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"The snow does add something aesthetically."

"I didn't mean to upset you…"

"Jonathan, you didn't." She'd already asked him to leave the subject alone, why wouldn't he?

"There's so many things I wish to tell you…but I'm scared I'll word them all wrong. A moment ago was a perfect example."

"No, I just don't wish to discuss that subject. It's my past — I rather forget it. Some things are not meant to be."

He wondered if she meant her relationship with Trip or baby Elizabeth. Or maybe she was referring to both. Either way, he'd made her sad by alluding to the memory.

"Never snows on Vulcan, does it?"

"No."

"That was a stupid question. Of course it doesn't. Maybe you're the one who wants to be alone now…with your thoughts."

She turned to face him. If only he knew how wrong he was. "No…I'd like my thoughts to be distracted."

"Oh." He'd run out of small talk, and didn't dare ask any more stupid questions. She didn't want to see a movie. "Shall I play another piece?"

"That would be agreeable."

He returned to the piano and played several pieces over the next half-hour. Jonathan felt a knot developing in his stomach. He still hadn't received a satisfactory explanation for her appearance here, and he felt a klutz for bringing up her dead child. And his mind was still reeling at the information that she and Trip were no longer a couple. When had they split up? Did T'Pol continue to have feelings for the chief engineer? Had their break-up been a mutual decision?

There was a part of him that wanted to take advantage of the situation. Rejection was the worst that could happen — he guessed he could live with it. It wouldn't be the first time a friend turned him down. Another part of him cautioned against such foolish notions.

But…something about tonight felt different. Usually he felt completely at ease around her. Now she made him nervous. She looked so beautiful and vulnerable. _She's your guest and first officer! How can you even think this way? _What was wrong with him?

He finished Moonlight Sonata, another Beethoven piece, and went to the bar to pour himself a drink.

"Why did you stop?" she asked.

"Intermission," he smiled. "Would you like a drink?"

"A glass of water will be fine."

After pouring a glass of brandy, he went to the kitchen to get T'Pol's water.

"It's stopped snowing," he stated, handing her the glass.

"Jonathan, what did you mean when you said you had so many things to tell me but were afraid to?"

"Nothing really."

"I don't think that's a truthful answer." On duty she'd never accuse her captain of lying, but as friends she felt it was important they be honest with each other.

He sighed heavily. "I don't think it's anything that needs to be discussed. I said it without thinking."

"You must understand that a statement of that kind would make me curious."

"Right…I do now."

He swallowed the brandy in one gulp, and placed the glass on the windowsill. He gazed down at her, admiring her beauty.

She blinked, her face felt warm under his constant gaze. Was this a staring contest? She turned her head and focused her eyes on the trees outside, the branches heavy from the weight of the snow. She noticed something moving then saw a deer with a young fawn at her side trotting by the water's edge. "Jonathan, look—"

"The leasing agent was right. He'd said something about a couple of deers visiting the house. Probably looking for food."

"Yes."

They both watched the mother deer and fawn until they disappeared out of sight. "I believe the intermission is over," T'Pol announced. She hoped he'd continue to play, she found it soothing.

"Let's forget the music for a minute, T'Pol."

"But—"

The word had barely slipped out of her mouth, when Jonathan's lips made contact with hers.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Christmas at Lake Tahoe**

**Chapter 3**

Jonathan carried her into his bedroom and placed her gently on his bed. She pulled him down for a kiss, running her fingers through his hair. He felt drunk; her kisses were more intoxicating than strong spirits. It was like being swept up in a powerful wave, but you had no wish to fight it — instead you capitulated. However a small voice in the back of his head began to grow stronger and stronger, to the point that it could no longer be ignored.

He broke off the kiss and pulled away from her. His breathing was erratic and shallow. As he tried to compose this thoughts one question ran through his mind. What the hell was he doing?

She lay there, looking up at him with an expression of confusion etched on her face. He needed to explain, but first he needed to catch his breath.

His desire and need for her had completely overpowered his logic and sense. She had no idea what kind of hold she had on him. The feel of her lips on his as she'd returned his kiss in the living room had been utterly bewitching. Every coherent thought in his head had vanished in a puff of smoke. The wonderful sensation of her luscious lips on his, passionate and demanding had been exhilarating.

"Jonathan?"

"This isn't right," he began. "I wasn't thinking…we weren't…" He began to pace back and forth as he ran his fingers through his hair.

She stood up from the bed, approached him and placed her hand on his arm. "Can you stop for a minute?"

"Sorry…I pace when I need to think."

"Yes…I've noticed." She turned him to face her, and gripped his shoulders — similar to the way he normally did to her. "What's wrong?"

"We weren't thinking…I mean I wasn't. I acted on impulse. I'm sorry."

"I'm not. Don't you think we've danced around this for too many years?"

What did she mean too many years? "I can't do this, T'Pol."

"Well some part of you wanted to, otherwise you wouldn't have initiated it."

"I'm human. I'm allowed a moment of weakness. Now you've seen it and I stopped it before it went too far. It's late; we should go to bed."

"I thought that was the plan a few moments ago," she answered with a note of sarcasm.

"I wouldn't peg you for innuendoes, T'Pol. Maybe you've spent too much time with humans." Or Trip, he added in his thoughts.

"You are correct. I have spent a lot of time with humans. However, despite that at this moment I am confused by your actions."

"As am I by yours." He'd never have thought she'd return his kiss, or be that passionate.

"How so?"

He moved away from her and sat down on the edge of the bed. He sighed heavily. This was awkward. "Are you attracted to me, T'Pol?"

"What do you think?"

"Honestly? I don't know."

"That is an odd response. Is that your normal reaction when a woman returns your display of affection — you wonder if she finds you attractive?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then?" She sat by him on the bed.

"It is late, we should call it a night."

"That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say, T'Pol?"

"You could at least attempt an explanation."

"I already did."

"Saying you acted on impulse doesn't suffice."

"I have nothing further to add. If you don't mind, I'd rather be alone."

"I see. Fair enough, if that is what you wish."

She raised herself off the bed and walked towards the doorway. Turning around she bid him goodnight and shut the door behind her.

Jonathan stared at the now closed door. His breathing had returned to normal, but he felt confused and agitated. What a dumb thing to do! What had possessed him to kiss her? She was his friend and first officer…he didn't want to jeopardize that...had he?

Now his secret was out…the one he'd kept hidden for over four years. Now she knew. He didn't want to think about this now. Better to get some sleep…and deal with it in the morning. Maybe he'd be clear headed then.

He undressed, walked into the bathroom and turned the shower dial to cold.

* * *

T'Pol sat on the bed in her room and ran through the scene in her head. When Jonathan had kissed her at the window it had been…the only word that came to mind was perfect. 

For several years she'd juggled with a theory. There had been times…especially before the Expanse when she'd been convinced that the captain was attracted to her. The idea had not repelled or revolted her. Far from it, she'd found the notion…pleasing. Despite his arrogance and rudeness to her on the day of their first meeting, she'd not been blind to the fact that he was a handsome man.

But neither one of them had acted on their attraction…or even voiced it. So it had always been an unconfirmed theory. Tonight, for the first time she'd been presented with solid evidence…that was most agreeable.

His kisses had stirred her, evoking emotions she normally worked hard at suppressing. The mere recollection produced a fire in her belly. His hands had cupped her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. She'd gazed into those fiery green eyes of his, feeling hypnotized.

She'd returned his kiss, wanting him to know his feelings were returned. His arms had snaked around her back, bringing her closer to him. They'd broken apart, both a little breathless. Then without warning he'd picked her up in his arms and carried her into his bedroom.

It had been a sudden move…but not an unwelcome one. So when he'd backed off and started his tirade of explanations, she'd been confused. That state of mind hadn't changed.

It was 11:30pm she noted, glancing at the clock. She didn't feel tired. She decided to try and meditate — perhaps that would calm her. Then she remembered she didn't have any candles with her. There was a pair of candles on the mantelpiece, above the fireplace. They were probably decorative. Maybe there were others in the kitchen. She left the bedroom to go investigate.

She walked into the kitchen. She could ask him if he had any candles, she'd noticed the light in his bedroom was still on as she'd passed his room. But she felt uncomfortable…and had decided against bothering him.

She searched through several draws and cupboards but no candles. She could meditate without a candle. It was just that if one had been available she'd have liked to use it.

Her search over she turned to go back to her room. She almost walked into Jonathan, who was leaning against the kitchen counter in a bathrobe. She hadn't heard him come in.

"What's with the treasure hunt?"

She felt like she'd been caught red handed. "I was looking for a candle."

"For meditation?"

"Yes."

"You can take one off the fireplace. Let me get you some matches." He moved towards one of the draws, opened it and handed her a lighter. "No matches, but this is safer."

"They aren't ornamental?"

"Huh?"

"The candles on the fireplace?"

"I'm hardly ever here. I wouldn't notice — help yourself. The leasing agent furnished this place, including all the little knickknacks."

"Thank you." She went to the fireplace and removed one of the long green candlesticks from its holder. "Goodnight, Jonathan."

She heard him pour himself a glass of water. He didn't answer so she assumed he hadn't heard her. Returning to the kitchen, she repeated the words.

This time he answered. "Goodnight, T'Pol."

The green robe he was wearing was becoming. She imagined untying the knot at his waist and slipping it off his broad shoulders.

"Was there something else?" he asked. She stood in the kitchen with the candlestick in her hand, staring at him.

"No…nothing else. Goodnight." She turned on her heel and returned to the guestroom.

* * *

Jonathan stared at his bedside clock. Why was it when you wanted time to go fast that it crawled? Then when you wanted to enjoy a moment it sped by at the speed of light? It was 3am and he hadn't got a wink of sleep.

He yawned and sat up in bed. He turned on his bedside light and wondered how to while away the night. His libido informed him there was a beautiful woman just across the hall that could probably offer a couple suggestions.

He dismissed that thought. He was not going to have a one-night stand with his first officer. That's all it would be, right? She was probably still in love with Trip. She hadn't explained why the two of them were no longer in a relationship…maybe it was a temporary bust-up. The last thing he wanted was to get in the middle of things.

He could read more of Malcolm's book…but the idea wasn't appealing. Then he remembered T'Pol's gift. It was on the kitchen counter top. He climbed out of bed and walked into the kitchen to retrieve it.

He decided to stoke up the fire — he'd read his favourite poem in the living room. Sitting cross-legged by the fire, he reread _The Tale of the Wandering Angus_ for probably the 1000th time. As his eyes scanned the words, the image of his mother reading to him while he sat patiently on her lap came to mind.

"You can not sleep either?" T'Pol's voice interrupted him.

His eyes looked upward, meeting hers. She was dressed in light blue pyjamas, open at her navel. Didn't she have a robe she could wear? Then he remembered he was half-naked, dressed only in PJ bottoms.

"No."

She crossed her legs and joined him by the fire, without invitation. "Are you reading page 57?"

"Yeah."

"Perhaps you could read it aloud."

His face contorted into a slight frown. He wished she'd return to her room. Her attire was…distracting to say the least. He buried his face in the book and started to read the poem from the beginning.

"Thank you," she said after he finished.

He didn't answer but she heard him turn a few pages and assumed he was reading something else. The room was quiet except for the crackle of the fire. "Jonathan," she said taking the book out his hand. "I don't know what you are afraid of but I'm not like the girl in your favourite poem. I have no intentions of running away or disappearing."

He stared into the fire, to avoid her gaze. His pulse had increased. He should get up and walk away, but he felt rooted to the spot. She stood up and walked behind him. He wondered why. Then he felt her hands begin to massage his knotted shoulders.

"T'Pol, I don't—"

"Relax," she whispered. "You're so tense."

Her touch was exquisite. "Please…stop," he pleaded.

She removed her hands. "I don't understand." She sat back down by the fire, facing him.

"I made it clear earlier. This isn't something we can pursue."

"I was massaging your shoulders."

"T'Pol, don't act so naïve. I believe you wanted to do a lot more than that."

"Since neither one of us can sleep, perhaps you can enlighten me as to why you are acting this way."

"I'm a little tired of repeating myself."

"That's the only reason — this isn't something you can pursue?"

"Yes."

"Well that is neither a reason nor an explanation." She reached out and caressed his face. "I care about you, Jonathan. I always have. You're a special person…someone I admire and deeply respect. I came up here to spend some time with my friend…not hoping for anything more. You surprised me this evening when you kissed me…I thought those feelings had died a long time ago. I was pleased to discover they hadn't…but now I'm confused."

"T'Pol, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to confuse you. But this isn't me…I mean I don't have casual relationships." What he meant was that he didn't want a casual relationship with her. He hadn't been in love with Erika; it had meant nothing. And his brief liaison with Navaar had been pheromone induced.

"Neither do I," T'Pol answered. If that was the only obstacle to them being together she wished he'd spoken his mind earlier. Moving closer to him, she pressed her lips against his.

"T'Pol—"

She placed her index finger on his lips. "I think we've talked enough." She stood up and held her hand out to him. He took it and straightened up, following her into his bedroom.

Instructing him to sit on the bed she positioned herself behind him and continued with the shoulder massage she'd started earlier. As she kneaded the tension out of his muscles he closed his eyes and attempted to relax. She began to kiss down his neck, then along his shoulder.

"I want you, Jonathan."

She kissed down his spine. "I've always wanted you."

He turned to face her, uncertainty written on his face.

"I don't want a casual relationship, Jonathan."

He took her in his arms, kissing her with urgency. As he lowered her to the bed, he whispered, "I love you, T'Pol."

* * *

T'Pol woke up alone. She called out to Jonathan but there was no answer. Where was he? She hoped he wasn't afraid to face her, or worse regretted their intimacy last night. She climbed out of bed and slipped on her PJs that Jonathan had placed on an armchair last night.

She walked down the hall into the living room, calling his name, but still no reply. Porthos was nowhere to be seen either — perhaps they'd gone for a walk. The clock in the kitchen said it was 10:15am — she'd really slept late and deeply. Jonathan's leaving obviously hadn't woken her.

She was about to boil the kettle for some mint tea when she noticed a hand-written note stuck to it. It was from Jonathan — he said he'd gone to the store to get a few things and taken Porthos for a walk. It didn't specify a time for his return, just said see you later.

She removed the note from the kettle and filled it with water to boil. She was beginning to experience doubts. She was concerned Jonathan would say it had been a mistake and they'd been reckless. Maybe she was overreacting. Best to wait until he returned and gauge the situation then.

She popped a tea bag into a mug and filled it with boiling water. Just as she was about to search for something edible she heard the front door open — he was back!  
She felt her stomach tighten.

Porthos ran down the hall and deposited himself by the fire. A few moments later she heard Jonathan's footsteps approaching. He entered the kitchen laden with three large brown paper bags full of groceries.

"Hi," he greeted her sheepishly.

"Hello," she answered.

"You okay?" She seemed tense.

"I didn't expect to wake up alone." It sounded like a reproach but she hadn't meant it that way. It was as if someone else was speaking for her.

"I didn't want to wake you, I assumed you were tired." He placed the heavy paper bags on the counter top and began to unpack the items, putting them away. "You must be hungry — what would you like for breakfast?"

"Plomeek broth."

"Well if the supermarket stocked it, I would have bought it."

"It doesn't matter, I'm not hungry," she lied. She felt nervous and was acting out of character. She knew Jonathan didn't have any Plomeek broth and yet the words had simply slipped out.

She took her mint tea and went into the living room to sit down. Jonathan left the groceries for the time being and joined her on the sofa. He took her hand in his. "What's wrong, T'Pol?"

"I don't know."

"Look, I'm not telepathic, but I sense you're angry with me. I'm sorry if I wasn't here when you woke up."

"It's not that."

"Then?"

"I don't know. I apologize if I sounded irritable — I don't feel like myself this morning."

"It's okay," he smiled. "Listen, shall I get your robe? You must be freezing in those flimsy PJs."

"I'm fine. It's warm in here," she replied. "How are you?" she inquired, in a gentler tone.

"Okay."

"That's good."

The conversation stalled after that. T'Pol guessed they both felt awkward. This was something she hadn't anticipated. Last night, after finally convincing him that she didn't want a casual relationship, they'd been at ease with each other. Kissing him, being in his arms, making love with him — it had felt so natural and right. So what was the problem now?

Jonathan released her hand, announced that he was going to make some breakfast and returned to the kitchen. He asked again if there was anything she wanted, and presented her with a list of options. He'd bought an assortment of fruit that she was welcome to or he could make some porridge. Failing that, she could always have some dry toast.

She decided on the dry toast and he popped two slices of bread into the toaster. She finished her mint tea and washed her mug up in the sink — neither one of them spoke. He placed her toast on a plate and passed it to her.

"I could spread a little butter on it if you like."

"No thank you," she answered.

She ate her toast in silence, while Jonathan scrambled some eggs. She excused herself, informing him that she was going to get dressed. He nodded in acknowledgement.

She showered and got dressed. If the atmosphere between the two of them was going to continue like this, she was not looking forward to the rest of the day. She'd never planned it to work out this way. Well none of this had been planned. All of this: coming here, kissing him and then spending the night were all performed on impulse without pre-meditated thought.

She sat on the edge of the bed; the one she hadn't slept in, in the guestroom and stared out at the window. She was new at all of this and had no idea how to proceed. Being direct was probably the best course of action.

There was a knock on the door and she heard Jonathan's voice asking if he could enter. She replied yes.

"I heard the water running for over thirty minutes, wanted to make sure you hadn't drowned in the shower." It was an attempt at levity.

"If you're worried about the water bill I'll pay my share."

"T'Pol, what's got into you?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." But that wasn't true. Her nervous feeling had now progressed to agitation. This was probably because she hadn't been able to meditate last night. "Did you finish your breakfast?" she asked.

"Yeah." He stood with his back to the window, facing her.

"Are you nervous?" she asked. She noticed he was wringing his hands.

"Truthfully, yeah. You?"

"A little yes. I didn't expect to feel like this."He stepped across the room and sat beside her. "So where do we go from here, T'Pol?"

"I do not know." She was no expert at relationships. Her on/off again relationship, if one could even call it that, with Commander Tucker had been a series of confusions, misunderstandings and mistakes. And her marriage to Koss…well that had been nothing more than a sham to protect her mother.

"You said you loved me last night." She stated, wondering if he'd reconfirm it.

He glanced down at his feet and noticed a few balls of fluff on the carpet. It was much easier to make such statements in the heat of passion. "Yes," he whispered, still studying the carpet.

"How long have you felt that way?"

"How long? Hmm…feels like forever." There was no point in hiding the truth; she already knew how he felt. What difference would the longevity of his feelings make?

"Before the Expanse?"

"Yes."

"During our time in the Expanse?"

"Yes."

"I thought you'd stopped caring. You seemed so distant. We'd be standing in the Ready Room talking about something and yet I felt like you were light years away. The camaraderie we'd once shared had disappeared. I didn't know how to regain it."

"I never stopped loving you, T'Pol."

"Why did you not say anything?" If he had, things would have turned out so differently. She wouldn't have got involved with Tucker for starters.

"It was a time of war. There was no room in my life for personal relationships. I had to be focused on one thing, and one thing alone. I'm sorry if you felt I was distant."

"If the Xindi attack hadn't happened, would you have told me?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Probably not."

"Oh."

"It's not something that is easy to say."

"But last night—"

"Last night was different."

That was true. And he hadn't merely said it once, but many times over, almost like a mantra. He'd said a lot last night — he'd told her how beautiful she was, how desirable, how he couldn't imagine his life without her. The words had come spilling forth out of his mouth, as if a dam had burst. He'd bared his soul to her — let her see him at his most vulnerable. After being with him there hadn't been a doubt in her mind as to how much he loved and cared for her. But that guaranteed nothing.

He'd loved her this way for several years and not declared his feelings. Allowed her to develop a relationship with Trip without speaking his peace. And would have said nothing if last night hadn't happened.

"How long can you stay, T'Pol?" he asked, out of the blue.

"Until we are officially back on duty aboard Enterprise — that is, if I'm welcome to stay."

"I thought you'd know how welcome you are."

"You're a polite person, Jonathan. I may be imposing, but I doubt you'd own up to it."

"Oh, T'Pol, for God's sake!" He got up off the bed in a huff. "How can you even say that? Don't you know me at all?"

"I admit sometimes you're a riddle." Last night was a perfect example.

"I bare my soul to you, tell you how I feel, and you still doubt my intentions?"

"What are your intentions? Maybe you could spell them out to me." She felt her agitation growing.

"Okay here ya go; I suggest you get yourself a paper and pen or a PADD. You can write it all down so next time you won't tell me how much of a riddle I am!"

"There's no need to raise your voice."

"T'Pol," he started taking a breath. "I asked how long you could stay because I want you to stay. You're not imposing, and I'm not being polite. Okay?"

She nodded.

"As for my intentions — well I don't go around telling just anyone how I feel about them. You've known me for almost five years; you know how closed off I can be, how private I am. The fact that I told you I loved you is a huge deal…but it's obvious it made no impact whatsoever."

"You're mistaken," she answered, in a calm voice.

"Whatever." He left the room without another word. She followed him into the hall and found him putting on his winter coat.

"Where are you going?"

"For a drive."

"I'll come with you," she suggested.

"No…I want to be alone." His voice was stern, so she didn't counter-argue.

He shut the door behind him and she retired to the living room, feeling confused and lost. How had it all gone wrong?

* * *

He started the engine and backed out of the garage. He took Highway 50 north, then Highway 28 in the direction of Incline Village. He had no idea why he'd lost his temper with T'Pol. It was unlike him. Maybe it was from lack of sleep. He'd only slept around four hours, getting up just after 8am.

It was bright and sunny so he opened the glove compartment and retrieved his sunglasses. To the left of him was the lake, in all its glory, but his mind was too distracted to enjoy nature.

Last night he'd held a sleeping T'Pol in his arms and willed himself to stay awake for just a bit longer. He didn't know if he'd ever have the opportunity again to lie next to her and wanted to burn this into his memory. He'd experienced overwhelming joy but also trepidation. Having confessed his feelings, he had to acknowledge that attraction and desire might be all she felt for him.

She'd said she didn't want a casual relationship…but what did she want? He'd hoped they'd discuss it when he returned from the grocery store, but the atmosphere had been so tense. She'd been acting weird…almost angry. He didn't understand why. Her comment about him just being polite had enraged him…after all he'd said last night it seemed incomprehensible that she would think that.

Before the situation had got heated he should have done something to break the ice…like kiss her or hold her. But his fear had got the better of him. Maybe she regretted what they'd done and wanted them to revert back to the status of just friends.

This could prove to be problematic. How would they work together on Enterprise? Trip somehow coped, he guessed he'd have to learn as well.

Twenty-five minutes later he'd traversed the length of the lake and had arrived at Incline Village. This was a small ski resort with one large hotel and casino. He pulled into the hotel car park and stepped out of the car. Entering the lobby it reminded him of the Tahoe Lodge where he'd had dinner with Sarah.

He explored a little, even poking his head into the casino for a couple minutes. He tried his hand at a quick game of black jack, but after losing 10 credits gave up. Poker was more his game, but he wasn't in the mood. He made his way to the café and ordered a latte and slice of lemon pound cake. He sat at a table alone drinking his coffee feeling like an idiotic fool. She'd wanted to come with him, why hadn't he agreed?

He sighed heavily and took a large bite out of his cake. His communicator beeped. Taking it out of his pocket, he answered. It was T'Pol. She asked him where he was, and when he was thinking of returning.

"I should be back in about 45 minutes. As soon as I finish my coffee I'll head out."

"Jonathan, we have a communication problem. However, I do not believe it's unsalvageable. I think we both felt uncomfortable this morning — like we were walking on eggshells as you humans say."

"Yeah, I won't disagree with you there."

"If I said anything that hurt you, I apologize."

"No, T'Pol, I'm the one who owes you an apology. I think I'm tired — I didn't get much sleep last night."

"I know."

"But that's still not an excuse. I don't know why I blew up."

"I think we are both in unfamiliar territory."

"I agree," he said.

"You'll be back in 45 minutes then?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you then."

They said their goodbyes and the call ended. Jonathan felt a little better after that exchange. She was right, they were in unfamiliar territory — but if they were both willing to try they could make this relationship work. That was if she wanted to. He knew he did.

* * *

He drove back the way he came. He was more alert; the coffee was obviously working. However, he continued to feel a little nervous at the prospect of facing T'Pol. Best to just speak his mind and go from there.

Or maybe he'd take her somewhere — show her around. They were in one of the most beautiful places in California, no sense sitting in the house all day. A trip on the Tahoe Queen to Emerald Bay might be a good idea. It wasn't the original paddlewheeler built in 1983, but a replica that had been made around 50 years ago.

He pulled into his drive and jumped out of the car, jogging up the steps to the front door. He was about to insert his keycard when the door opened and T'Pol stood on the other side.

"It's been an hour since we talked."

"Yeah, I got stuck behind a really slow vehicle. You weren't worried were you?" he asked as he walked in, talking off his coat.

She closed the door behind him. "Not yet," she answered.

"Listen," he said as he closed in on her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't blame you if you packed up your bags and left. I'm sorry about earlier."

"Jonathan, I already accepted your apology."

"Yeah, well I'm giving it again in person."

"And it's accepted."

He lowered his head to capture her lips. They were moist and cool, and tempting beyond belief. He deepened the kiss, pinning her up against the wall. "I should have just done that this morning, maybe all this nonsense could have been avoided," he mused.

"Maybe," she answered, a little breathless.

"I was thinking…if you want we could go on a boat cruise this afternoon. The Tahoe Queen departs just a few blocks from here. The cruise is around 2 hours long and takes you to Emerald Bay and back."

"Have you been before?"

"Yeah a few times, it's fun." He kissed her again, then moved down and nuzzled her neck.

"Jonathan…"

"You don't like that?"

"Yes I do, but—"

"But what?"

"Instead of getting distracted we should find out what time the next cruise leaves and plan the day. It is afternoon already."

She had a point. He took her hand and led her into the living room. He tapped in a few keys on the computer and brought up information about the Tahoe Queen cruises.

"Oh we're in luck. They resumed service today. They were closed for the holidays yesterday." He studied the information on screen. "Think we can make the 2pm cruise?"

"Yes, I see no problem in that," T'Pol replied.

"Okay, I'll make the reservations then."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Christmas at Lake Tahoe**

**Chapter 4  
**  
Archer and T'Pol arrived at the boat dock at 1:45pm. They purchased their tickets and boarded the Tahoe Queen. They sat at the front of the paddle wheeler, on the second deck.

The cruise left promptly at 2pm, easing out of South Lake Tahoe in the direction of Emerald Bay. A young girl who looked around 25 years old named Emily introduced herself as the tour guide. She began with some facts about the lake.

T'Pol listened with great interest. Emily explained that Lake Tahoe was the second deepest lake in the United States and the tenth deepest in the world. It had a maximum depth of 1,645 ft with average depth of 1,000 ft.

"What's the deepest lake then?" T'Pol asked Jonathan in a whisper.

"Crater Lake in Oregon," he answered.

Emily must have noticed them whispering as she remarked if anyone had any questions to please ask and she'd do her best to answer them.

Emily continued giving the lengths of the Lake. It was 22 miles long and l2 miles wide.

An older man sitting across from Jonathan and T'Pol asked the length of the shoreline.

"It's 72 miles," Emily replied. "The lake has a surface area of 191 square miles. Did you know that it's the highest lake of its size in the US?"

Most people answered no. "Yeah, its average surface elevation is 6,225 ft."

"I notice that the water is crystal clear," T'Pol said. "Does the lake have any attributes that enable this?"

"Good question!" Emily enthusiastically responded. "Lake Tahoe in fact has a water clarity of about 100 ft. This is mainly due to the rainfall. Forty percent of the precipitation that falls into the Lake Tahoe Basin lands directly on the lake. Any remaining rainfall drains through granitic soils, which are relatively sterile and create a good filtering system."

"Fascinating. Thank you." T'Pol almost wished she'd brought a PADD along with her to make notes. This location was not only one of serene beauty but of scientific interest.

Next Emily went onto talk a little about the mountains around the lake. The highest mountain was Freel Peak at 10,891 ft. She explained how geologic movements millions of years ago had created the Sierra Nevada and Carson Range of mountains that surrounded the lake.

A young boy asked what the water temperature was and she told him the surface temp was around 40 to 50F in the winter months, and went up to 65 to 70F in the summer. However, below a depth of 600 to 700 ft the water would remains a constant 39F. Emily spoke a little of the history of the Tahoe Queen, explaining it was a replica of the original one built in 1983. Before finishing she repeated that if anyone had any more questions to feel free to ask. She said they should be arriving in Emerald Bay within twenty-five minutes.

T'Pol asked Jonathan if they could walk around the boat and explore a little now that Emily had concluded. He agreed. Taking the stairs they climbed up the final flight to the top deck which was in the open air.

T'Pol zipped up her jacket and put on her gloves. "Warm enough?" Jonathan inquired. She nodded.

"It's so beautiful," Jonathan mused, taking in the vista before his eyes. "I know why Dad loved it here so much."

"It is…impressive," T'Pol agreed. She'd seen a lot of aesthetically perfect places in her lifetime; she'd add this to her list.

"Would you like a hot drink?" Jonathan asked, noting that they were serving tea and coffee in an enclosed area at the other end of the boat.

"I'm fine."

He told he was going to get himself a coffee and he'd return in a moment. She gazed out onto the horizon, noticing the boat was turning in a westerly direction towards Emerald Bay.

The paddle wheeler docked for 15 minutes allowing its passengers to disembark and explore a little…take photographs etc. T'Pol asked Jonathan why a castle, which could be viewed from the bay was of an unusual architecture.

"That's Vikingsholm. Doesn't look very American does it? Actually it's fashioned after the castles found in the fjords of Norway. That was its owner's wish."

"How old is it?"

"If I recall correctly it was built in 1928 — so that makes it 227 years old. That's young in comparison to most of the castles in Europe. Next time we get shore leave on Earth we should take a tour of Europe. I think you'd like it. Places like Versailles in France and Neuschwanstein Castle in Germany are magnificent."

He wondered if he was getting ahead of himself…who knew if they'd be a couple then…or for that matter if they'd even be together by the time this shore leave was over.

"I'll have to research the places you mention."

The fifteen minutes were almost up, so he suggested they make their way back to the boat.

"Thank you for suggesting this cruise, Jonathan. It's enjoyable."

He smiled. "I'm having a great time myself." It was probably the 6th or 7th time he'd taken this cruise…but this was the most fun he'd ever had on it.

They returned to their seats on the Tahoe Queen on the second deck. Emily was available for questions and T'Pol noticed a few people approach her.

"You got any more questions?" Jonathan asked, noting she looked in Emily's direction.

"Not at the moment. If any come to me, I'm sure I can look the answers up on the computer later on."

They sat back, relaxed and enjoyed the trip back to South Lake Tahoe.

* * *

The paddle wheeler docked back at South Lake Tahoe just after 4pm. T'Pol and Jonathan disembarked and walked towards his parked car. He opened the door for her, and she climbed into the car.

Within a few minutes they were back at the house. Jonathan asked what she wanted to do for dinner.

"I don't have any preferences. What about you?"

"I could make some pasta with pesto — does that sound okay to you?"

"You're on vacation, Jonathan. Why would you cook?"

"Guess cause I don't get much of a chance on Enterprise. That is if I have no objections."

"No objections from me. It sounds appetizing."

"Great. You hungry now?"

"Not yet."

"So if I serve it around 6pm, that would be okay?" She agreed.

They strolled into the living room. Jonathan threw some logs onto the fire and lit it. Glancing up onto the mantelpiece he noted the candlestick he'd told T'Pol to take for meditation had been returned.

"The candle wasn't of use to you?" he asked.

"I thought it looked odd with it missing, so I returned it."

He had a closer look at it. "It hasn't been lit."

"I couldn't meditate last night. I felt…restless — too many thoughts flitting through my mind."

"Hmm…guess I'm to blame for that."

She said he wasn't. She informed him she'd retire to the guestroom for a while and attempt to meditate again. She needed to unwind.

He turned the television on after she left and flicked through the channels. There was nothing worth watching. He sat down at the desk and switched on the computer terminal. Checking his messages, he read a communiqué from Malcolm. The lieutenant had wanted to say hi and hoped the captain was having a good time. He said Malaysia was beautiful and the weather perfect. The downside was that his parents were driving him nuts and his nerves were frayed. Jonathan smiled, recalling his own conversation several years ago with Mr and Mrs Reed.

He thought Trip might have got in touch but he was presumably too busy with family to do so. He hoped he'd had a good Christmas with his family. The next unopened message came from Starfleet Security. Odd, he thought.

Then as he opened it he realized it was from Commander Sarah Collins. She thanked him for dinner last night and asked how long he'd be staying in town. Her note was direct; she wanted to know if he'd be interested in having dinner tomorrow night. She ended it saying that if he didn't have time or was preoccupied, she hoped she'd bump into him on the slopes.

Last night after dinner it had appeared she'd just wanted to be friends. Now he had his doubts, especially after their walk last night and now this message. She'd seemed perturbed by T'Pol's appearance, asking if he'd known why his first officer had appeared out of thin air, so to speak. His answers had been vague but honest — he hadn't known why T'Pol had turned up.

At the end of the walk Sarah had told him it was best she head back to her hotel. If Jonathan and T'Pol had ship's business to discuss, she didn't want to be in the way. He hadn't contradicted her and walked her to the taxi that was waiting for her upon their return.

What had surprised him was that as she said goodnight she'd given him a quick peck. However it wasn't on the cheek, like a friend, but on the lips.

He'd been too embarrassed to say anything and had opened the door to the vehicle for her, saying goodnight and thanking her for her company. He'd forgotten all about it after returning to the house, being far more interested in T'Pol and her sudden appearance.

He typed a short reply, thanking her for the invite but explaining that he had other plans. He wrote that he hoped the remainder of her stay would be pleasant and left it at that. Not a direct "I'm not interested" but hopefully she'd get the message.

The grandfather clock informed him it was 5pm so he made a start on dinner.

* * *

"You're a good cook, Jonathan." T'Pol complimented him on the pasta as she twirled it around on her fork.

"Thanks. Here have some more salad." He passed her the salad bowl.

"So you're an excellent pianist and a good cook — two things I didn't know about you before."

"You should spend more vacations with me — who knows what you might discover." He winked at her.

"Only vacations?"

He wasn't sure if her tone was playful or if she was being serious, but he didn't dare ask. Neither one of them had discussed what they wanted from a relationship — if that's what this was. But it was only the first day. Things didn't need to be rushed he told himself.

He laughed her question off, not wanting to appear vulnerable. "Have you ever been skiing, T'Pol?" He doubted it, but maybe she had while being stationed on Earth before being assigned to Enterprise.

"No. Is it enjoyable?"

"I find it exhilarating. If you'd like to have a go, we could try a few beginner slopes tomorrow. We could get you a ski suit in the morning, and take the gondola up after lunch. What do you think?"

"You wish to teach me?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Maybe it would be prudent if I took one of the skiing classes, if they are on offer. After a few sessions I could then join you."

"Oh okay, if you want." That was probably more sensible. While he would have enjoyed teaching her, the beginner slopes were rather boring. While she was having lessons he could go off and ski down the intermediate and advanced runs.

"I'll check the computer and book you into a lesson after dinner."

"I can do it myself, Jonathan."

"All right. It's the Heavenly Valley Ski Resort."

"Who taught you?"

"My dad. He said I took to the snow like a fish to water. I was about eight at the time. A buddy of mine had been to Mammoth Lakes with his parents and wouldn't stop talking about it for 3 days straight. After that I wouldn't stop begging my dad to take me skiing. Tahoe was his favourite place — so he brought me up here."

"You learnt to ski right here then?"

"Yup."

"This place must hold a lot of memories for you."

"It does. My dad was the greatest father in the world. He rarely said no to me, unless of course I was being unreasonable. He was patient, kind, giving and a great friend. We loved to do stuff together — when he had time. The Warp 5 project kept him very busy…but he made an effort to spend quality time with me."

"Did this house belong to him?"

"No, I bought this not long after I graduated from flight school. When Dad and I came up here we usually stayed at one of the casino resorts in Stateline. Mom loved to gamble, so while Dad and I were on the slopes, she was playing the slots."

"Your mother didn't ski?"

"Nah, she said the idea of speeding down a mountain didn't appeal to her. Neither did the cold."

"Can one get very cold skiing?"

"Well if you've got a decent ski suit you should be okay. Don't worry, I'll make sure we get you something that will keep you nice and warm."

They finished dinner and T'Pol helped him clear the table. He said he'd wash up while she booked her skiing lesson. She perused the information on screen and went with a highly recommended instructor by the name of Hans Schneider, who was Austrian.

"Did you book it?" Jonathan asked as he walked over from the kitchen with a tea towel draped across his shoulder.

"Yes. The lesson starts at 12:30pm and lasts 2 hours."

"That's great. I can meet you around 2:30pm and we could try a few slopes together — that is if you feel confident enough."

"I would like that."

He smiled. "Me too. You feel like going for a walk?"

"What's the temperature outside?"

"A balmy 22F. But the skies are clear, it's not snowing."

"Yes, but can you give me a few minutes? I'd like to check my messages on the computer."

"Sure thing."

She had two written communiqués. The first was from Trip, so she opened it.

_Hey T'Pol,_

_Tried contacting you at Soval's but heard you'd gone up to Tahoe. Glad you took my suggestion. Hope you and the captain are having fun. It's crazy here — I've been entrusted with looking after all my cousins' kids — there's like 12 of them! Going to Sea World tomorrow — wish me luck. _

_Sorry this is short, I'm really busy. Say hi to the Cap'n from me. _

Well it sounded like he was enjoying himself. He was a natural with children, she was sure when he eventually married he'd probably have 4 or 5 kids of his own.

The next message was from her mother's sister — V'Lara. She had a feeling what it was going to be about. As she read it, it was as she'd expected. Her aunt had just learnt Enterprise was in spacedock and T'Pol was off-duty. The note was curt and to the point stating that she was disappointed her niece didn't deem it important to spend time with her Vulcan family. She surmised her niece became more human every day, regarding Enterprise's crew as more of a family than her own blood relatives.

She ended it saying how it had been her sister T'Les' wish that T'Pol was closer with the rest of the family.

T'Pol turned the screen off and went to put on her coat. She called to Jonathan, telling him she was ready. He emerged from his bedroom with an extra pair of gloves and a woolly scarf. "Here, take these," he said as he handed them to her.

"You want me to wear these?"

"I don't want you to get cold. You didn't bring a scarf and those gloves you've got look thin. I know the ones I'm giving you are mine and will probably be too big, but that's better than your fingers going numb."

"Very well. Thank you."

He offered to put the scarf on for her and wrapped it around her neck several times. Then he helped her on with her coat, and suggested she put the hood up, so she'd keep those lovely Vulcan ears of her warm.

"You like my ears?"

"Oh they're one of your prettiest attributes."

She was pleased with the compliment. Jonathan was being so nice…taking care of her this way, making sure she was warm. He was being the perfect gentleman.

They walked outside and he held her hand as they climbed down the steps. They'd turned icy and one could easily slip. They walked down the garden path to the lake. T'Pol noticed different animal footsteps in the snow and pointed them out to Jonathan.

"Those are probably from the deer we saw last night."

"And these?" she pointed to another set.

"Probably racoons."

"What do they look like?" She'd never seen one before.

"They are very cute looking. About the size of a domestic cat, they have grey and white fur and a stripped tail." They turned right when they got to the lake and walked in the Nevada direction.

Jonathan slipped his arm around her waist and she leaned into him. "You warm enough?"

"Yes. And you?"

"Sure. Doubt I'm gonna get cold with you at my side."

They walked a few steps in silence. It was a beautiful moonlight night. The air was crisp and their boots made a rhythmic sound as they traversed over the frozen snow covered ground.

"You like animals, T'Pol? I remember you said when we were in the Forge last year that you had a pet."

"Yes a sehlat. I was…attached to it. I believe my mother was concerned that I cared for the animal too much. After I fed it I would often sit with it for up to an hour, just talking to it. I didn't have a lot of friends as a child — I think children my age considered me aloof and avoided me. Surak was a good listener. My parents got him for me when he was only a few weeks old and he grew up tame. "

"You called him Surak?"

"Yes."

"Interesting name." Jonathan smiled to himself as he had this vision of a little Vulcan girl confiding in her pet. "He wasn't as large as that beast we encountered in the Forge?"

"No. I would estimate his size was the equivalent of an Indian tiger."

"That's still pretty big. So what happened to Surak?"

"He lived a good, long life. He was twenty years old when he died in his sleep.  
I was twenty-five at the time, and was saddened by his passing. But I never told anyone…it was not acceptable for a Vulcan to show emotions over an animal."

"That's a long time to have a pet. I can imagine it was sad. I'm surprised you weren't more sympathetic when Porthos got sick."

"As I grew older I reasoned that my attachment to Surak had been illogical. Animals die…it's a way of life. And I was as sympathetic as I could be Jonathan. If you recall, I didn't sleep that night either and brought you food to sickbay."

"I remember, I was only kidding. But I don't think there's anything wrong with being attached to animals. You telling me about Surak shows you have a softer side than you let on."

"Perhaps…but let's keep that between ourselves."

"Of course," he smiled.

She remembered what Trip had said in his message and told Jonathan he said hi.

"Trip contacted you?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes, just a brief message. Said he's busy with his family."

Well he couldn't have been that busy, he'd had time to write T'Pol a note. And he hadn't written him one. He felt a tinge of jealousy intermixed with uncertainty. Was there still something between Trip and T'Pol? He didn't wish to come between them if there were any unresolved feelings there. And he didn't like the idea of being a rebound person either. Was that a possibility?

He wasn't going to ask and start up a serious discussion. He was just going to enjoy this vacation and his time with T'Pol. Whatever happened after they left Tahoe…well he'd deal with it then.

"I believe it. He's got an endless amount of uncles, aunts and cousins. Must be nice to have a large family."

"You have relatives on the East Coast — why don't you contact them?" T'Pol asked.

"I didn't know you were aware of that."

"Trip mentioned it once."

What else had Trip told her? "Oh."

"Was it a secret, Jonathan? I don't think he would have said anything if he thought—"

"My relatives aren't a secret. Look, T'Pol — a shooting star!" They stopped and gazed up into the sky together. Jonathan made a secret wish, but didn't suggest for T'Pol to do so. She'd probably think it illogical.

There was a bench along the path so Jonathan suggested they sit down for a few minutes. He made a ball out of the snow and ice, stood up and threw it into the lake. He did this several times. He'd done it as a kid with his father — seeing which one of them could throw it the furthest.

"I assume you aren't close to them?" T'Pol asked, as she watched him perform this unusual ritual. What was the sense in throwing snow into the lake?

"Who?"

"Your relatives?"

"No, I'm not. My mother's sister asked me to spend Christmas with her — but I didn't want to. Haven't seen her since I was seven years old. It would be awkward and strange. She has a son a few years younger than me — he was a baby when I saw her last. I think she wanted us to become friends or something."

"If you say having a large family would be nice, why not make an effort at getting to know these people?"

"I guess cause it would require just that…effort. And I'm hardly ever here — how could they get to know me if I'm out in space most of the time? It would be different if I'd grown up with them, but I didn't. In essence, they are strangers to me."

"I understand."

"You do?"

"I read a message from my aunt before we left the house. I've never been close to her, and when my mother was alive she didn't visit often. Yet now she acts as if we were a very close family and chides me for not returning to Vulcan when I have time off from my Enterprise duties."

"Well you can always explain you're keeping your lonely captain company."

Did he say that in jest? She didn't know. She imagined he probably did get lonely — and not just when he had time off. He spent most of his evenings alone, locked up in his quarters with Porthos. She knew what it was like to be lonely — it was one of the reasons she'd sought Trip's company in the Expanse when Jonathan had seemed to pull away from her.

She rubbed her arms in an effort to keep warm. Now that they'd stopped walking the cold was beginning to set in. She wiggled her toes; they felt numb. "Jonathan, do you think we can continue walking?"

"Yeah…you cold?"

"A little."

He threw the remaining snowball in his hands into the lake and joined T'Pol. "We'll walk briskly."

She nodded and they walked back in the direction of the house.

"I know a great way to warm up," he told her. "Did you notice what was on the deck as we left the house?"

Come to think of it she had seen a large wooden object in the shape of a tub with a thick plastic lid. She'd noticed steam escaping from it, but hadn't enquired as to its use. It could have been part of the heating for the house.

"Yes. What is its use?"

"It's a Jacuzzi. Wanna try it when we get back?"

"But it's situated outside."

"The water's around 100F, T'Pol. You wouldn't be cold."

Jonathan noted she didn't seem enthused with the idea so didn't push it. He fancied a dip himself even if she wouldn't join him.

They made it back to the house in ten minutes. T'Pol had set a fast pace and Jonathan was a little breathless in keeping up with her. Vulcans sure could walk fast!

He disappeared into his bedroom and changed into his swimming trunks, and wrapped himself in his bathrobe. He took a towel from his bathroom and joined T'Pol who was sitting in the living room.

"So you coming or not?"

"I don't have any swimming attire."

"Well you could always go—"

"In the nude?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No one will see you…unless of course you're embarrassed a wild animal might spy you getting in the tub."

She ignored his remark and flicked through the pages of a magazine he'd left on the coffee table. The subject matter was not of interest, but it gave her something to do.

Jonathan came and sat by her. "Look if you don't think the idea of sitting in a tub of hot steamy water is relaxing, that's okay. Just say so."

She felt sufficiently warm now. The fire had roared to life and the living room felt very cosy. She didn't see the point in going out into the freezing cold again to sit in a tub of water. When she wanted to relax she usually meditated — that seemed a far more efficient method of achieving the state.

"Okay, I won't ask a third time," he said after she said nothing. "I'll see you later."

"Jonathan?"

"What?" he asked about to head out the door.

"Have I offended you in some manner?"

"No. Why?"

"I thought perhaps you were upset."

"Not at all. You got something to do while I'm gone?"

"I think I'll meditate."

"I thought you did that this afternoon."

"I did."

"Do you meditate more than once a day?"

"Sometimes…if necessary."

"Oh." That sounded bad. Why did he feel he was responsible? "You feeling restless or agitated?"

"A little. My emotions are close to the surface."

"Is that my fault?" he asked, fearful of the answer.

"It's no one's fault, Jonathan. It is the circumstances. A lot has happened over the last two days."

"Okay." Somehow he still didn't feel off the hook, but couldn't think of anything else to say. He got up to go to the Jacuzzi.

After he left T'Pol sighed. She never used to do that; it was a habit she wished she'd never picked up — a bygone of her experimentation with Trellium. Phlox had told her she'd probably never have as much emotional control as she'd once had. So had her older self — Lorian's mother. She just had to adjust and come to terms with it.

Normally, her emotional control wasn't a problem. With a strict regime of meditation suppressing her emotions was relatively easy. It was only when she allowed herself to experience emotions to the full that the following day she had to deal with the repercussions. That probably explained why she'd acted in a weird fashion this morning, almost being snappish with Jonathan when he'd returned from the store.

Last night she'd experienced emotions to the full: passion, lust, desire, pleasure…and something else, though she couldn't quite name it. It consisted of a powerful attachment to Jonathan along with an insatiable need to be near him. That feeling had guided her decision to leave Soval's house and come up here. She'd noticed it the night Trip had told her about the captain being alone here in Tahoe.

It wasn't a new feeling…but one she'd discovered about 3 years ago. When they entered the Expanse and Jonathan had pulled away from her, she assumed her feelings were unrequited and attempted to bury them. They never quite disappeared, but she thought she could forget about him. Commander Tucker seemed far more interested in her anyway, and once she'd started on her diet of Trellium she'd found his attentions flattering.

Dealing with these emotions wasn't easy. She'd felt calmer after meditating this afternoon but felt keyed up again. She should meditate now but she felt pulled in two directions. Part of her wanted to join Jonathan in the hot tub. She didn't like the idea of him sitting there alone, thinking something was wrong and his fault.

She paced the living room for a few minutes, thinking. Jonathan said it helped him work things out, maybe it would assist her.

Perhaps this had nothing to do with her Trellium usage. It could be that she felt restless because she was dealing with this emotion head on. It had been there for a long time, but after last night she'd come face to face with it. She'd certainly never had this kind of reaction after her intimacy with Tucker. She'd been surprised that she'd hadn't felt anything then…emotionally that was.

There was something so noble about Jonathan. He had a beautiful spirit — he was kind, giving, generous and self-sacrificing. When she was away from him, she missed his presence keenly. It had been that way during her stay at Soval's house. She'd always found his character fascinating…at first it had been almost like scientific curiosity — now it was much more. Over the years she'd come to care for this human very much, now she cared more than ever.

She stopped pacing and decided the meditation could wait. She made her way to the guestroom and undressed. She rummaged through her luggage and found what she was searching for — it was the closest she had to swim wear. Putting on a black bra and panties she wrapped her robe around her and headed outside to join him.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Christmas at Lake Tahoe**

**Chapter 5  
**  
Jonathan leaned against the side of the tub as the jets massaged his back. T'Pol didn't know what she was missing…this was bliss. He watched as the steam rose from the water. He sunk deeper in, with only his head being visible above the water.

He should have been happy; here he was in an idyllic mountain resort sharing it with the woman he loved. But little doubts bothered him. He didn't like Trip contacting T'Pol. Of course it could be completely innocent. T'Pol had said they were only friends…and his ex-girlfriends had contacted him in the past. Rebecca had even kept up a correspondence with him over the years.

But for all he knew Trip and T'Pol may have only recently split up. The fact that he'd written to T'Pol and not to him seemed to suggest that. He didn't know if he could deal with them getting back together…especially now. Could he work with the two of them, side by side, knowing they were a couple?

It hadn't bothered him while in the Expanse — he'd been too busy finding the Xindi weapon. But with the mission complete it did cross his mind from time to time. Trip had been moody and stand-offish after T'Pol's marriage to Koss. He stopped eating dinner in the Captain's Mess and whenever Archer had asked him about it he'd always make up some excuse about something needing calibration.

Things came to a head when he'd asked for a transfer to Columbia. Jonathan had been shocked. When Trip had been uncooperative in providing an explanation, Jonathan had thought long and hard as to why his chief engineer would want to leave Enterprise. T'Pol seemed a reasonable explanation — there was no other. Trip had wanted to be on Enterprise and Archer's team from the time they'd first met during the NX-Project.

Trip agreed to come back a few weeks before their encounter with the Orion slave girls — Archer had assumed he and T'Pol had patched up their differences and decided to try again.

Who was to say they wouldn't try that again? He sighed. Was he wasting his time with T'Pol? On the other hand, she'd been the one to come here. He hadn't invited her. Last night she'd said she'd wanted to spend some time with a friend but had been pleased to discover he still had feelings for her.

He felt at war with his own insecurities. He was either going to have to ask her point blank for the answers or simply ignore his doubts and just enjoy his vacation.

He heard the back door open and then footsteps running towards him.

"T'Pol?"

She rounded the corner and approached the Jacuzzi. "It's freezing out here."

"Hop in then," he invited.

She took off her robe, placing it next to Jonathan's on a wooden chair. The cold air stung her exposed flesh. She climbed in and submerged her body in the steaming water.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Nice outfit, by the way." She looked sexy in black.

He wrapped his hand around hers and led her into the center of the tub, which was the deepest part. Encircling her waist he whispered into her ear. "I missed you. Thanks for joining me."

He nibbled at her ear then kissed down her throat. She tasted of chlorine, but he didn't care. He kissed her on the mouth.

"That was a quick meditation," he mused.

"I didn't…meditate," she answered, regaining her breath.

"Why not?" he asked with concern. "You said you were feeling restless."

"I decided it could wait."

"Okay." He smiled at her, glad of her decision to join him. "But make sure you meditate before going to bed tonight."

"Yes, sir."

They both sat down by the jets. "Mmm…this feels great."

"Better than a shoulder rub from me?" she asked.

"No…never, T'Pol." He thought back to last night and how he'd felt the tension drain from his shoulders as she'd massaged his tired and knotted muscles.

"Jonathan, what you said earlier about being lonely — was that meant to be humorous?"

"When?"

"When we were walking by the lake. You suggested I tell my aunt that I was keeping you company."

"Oh that…"

"There's nothing wrong with admitting to the feeling," she explained, stroking his cheek. "Even Vulcans experience loneliness."

He took her hand and kissed her palm. They gazed longingly into each other's eyes. She sensed her control slipping away. His lips were so tempting and begged to be kissed. She did, running her fingers through his wet hair, then down his bare back. This felt so good…her fingers on his skin, his passionate lips responding to hers, the fire burning in her veins.

She came up for air and tried to control her breathing.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm unaccustomed to feeling this way…I can't think of a term to describe it."

"How would you describe it in Vulcan?"

"Terms related to the Pon Farr come to mind, but I know this is not my time. I used to believe Vulcans only experienced such intense emotions then, I see I was wrong."

"Perhaps they do, it just isn't spoken of."

"Yes."

Hadn't she ever experienced this with Trip? What did she mean she was unaccustomed? It puzzled him.

"I will adjust…it will take time, that is all."

She made it sound like she wanted the relationship to be permanent or was he reading into things? He told himself not to hope too much.

She leaned back against the water jets. Under the water she searched for his hand and upon finding it, intertwined their fingers. "You have icicles in your hair."

"I know," he laughed. "You will in a few minutes as well. So, what made you change your mind?"

"About joining you?""Yeah."

"I wanted to be with you."

He stroked her cheek with his other hand. "I love you. When I saw you standing on my front porch last night I thought my eyes deceived me…that it was just wishful thinking. When I heard your voice I think my heart skipped a beat."

"And I felt like a fool, intruding on your date."

He laughed. "I'm glad you did."

The jets stopped. "Is something broken?" T'Pol asked.

"No, they are on a timer. Shall I set it for another 15 minutes or do you want to go in?"

"Another 15 minutes would be agreeable."

He hopped out of the tub, into the freezing night air and turned the timer dial. Instantly the jets came to life.

"When were you lonely, T'Pol?" he asked as he returned to her side.

"As a child…I didn't have many friends. Growing up I often sought the company of older Vulcans…I didn't seem to have a lot in common with people my own age. When I first transferred to San Francisco I felt alone in an alien world, where my kind were mistrusted and looked down upon. The first few weeks on Enterprise I felt isolated. I was glad of Phlox's attempts to befriend me."

"I never knew. I feel so dense."

"No need to."

"Any other times?"

"When we first entered the Expanse…I missed your friendship."

He hung his head down in regret. "I'm sorry."

"What's done is done, Jonathan. There is no point dwelling on the past. You already explained you had to stay focused on the mission…I understand."

"I was lonely up here before you arrived," he confessed. "Although I liked the idea of returning to Earth, when Gardener gave me the order part of me hated the idea."

She squeezed his hand. "It appears my timing was impeccable."

"Indeed," he chuckled.

Ten minutes later the jets came to a halt and they decided to head inside. Jonathan stepped out first, wrapped his robe around him and held T'Pol's out for her so she could climb into it as she emerged from the water. Taking her hand they hurried back into the house.

They both showered to rinse off the chlorine. Jonathan said he was going to read for a while, and T'Pol went to her room to meditate.

An hour later she returned to the living room and found Jonathan asleep sitting up on the sofa, with his book of poetry. He must have been tired.

She tiptoed into the kitchen to make herself some camomile tea. Porthos followed her in, hoping for some cheese. When she didn't seem to pay him any attention he barked at her.

"Be quiet, Porthos." He'd wake Jonathan up. The dog wasn't listening and barked again, sitting himself down by the door to the fridge.

Jonathan ambled into the kitchen. "What's up with Porthos?"

"I do not know."

"Bet he wants some cheese," Jonathan yawned.

"I had hoped he wouldn't wake you."

"It's okay, couldn't stay like that all night could I?" He rolled his neck around to ease out some of the kinks.

"I was thinking if you didn't wake up, I would carry you to your room."

"Really?" he laughed. "That's a first, a woman carrying a man to bed."

"You forget I'm Vulcan and stronger than you."

"I guess I forget the latter at times — you appear so petite."

"Appearances can be deceiving."

"Touché."

Porthos barked again, impatient that no one was paying heed to his wishes. Jonathan opened the fridge door and retrieved a few slices of cheese. Once he'd had his fill, the dog trotted off back to the fireplace.

"I'm making some tea, would you like some?" T'Pol asked. Jonathan replied in the affirmative and they retired to the living room, sitting side by side.

"What time are we leaving tomorrow?" T'Pol enquired.

"Hmm…well your skiing lesson is at 12:30pm and we need to buy you a ski suit, and sort out the rental of your skis and boots. I'd say we should leave the house around 10am. That okay with you?"

She nodded. "Could you play something on the piano?" she requested.

"Now?"

"Unless you're too tired."

"I think I can manage one song," he smiled, moving over to the piano. "Any requests?"

"If I was more familiar with Earth style music, I would suggest something. But since I am not, I leave the choice to you."

"Okay."

He thought for a moment and then he remembered an Irving Berlin classic he'd always liked. His fingers touched the keys and he played the introduction. But this was a song that he loved not only for the melody but the lyrics. He decided to sing it for T'Pol.

_What I'll do_  
_When you are far away_  
_And I am blue_  
_What I'll do_

_What I'll do_  
_When I'm wondering who_  
_Is kissing you_  
_What I'll do_

_What I'll do_  
_With just a photograph_  
_To tell my troubles to_  
_When I'm alone_  
_With only dreams of you_  
_That won't come true_  
_What I'll do_

T'Pol joined him at the piano, sitting next to him. "You never told me you could sing."

"Didn't I say if you stuck around you'd learn more about me?" he smiled, then leaned across and kissed her gently.  
"You have a melodious soothing voice. It is a shame you don't wish to share your talents with the crew." Listening to him sing and play for a few hours would be a great deal more enjoyable than being subjected to yet another Frankenstein movie.

"Thank you, T'Pol. But I don't want to appear to be an exhibitionist. I'm more than happy to play or sing for you, if you like."

She would be content with that. "It was a sad song."

"You didn't like it?"

"I did, you performed it with emotion. Almost as if you were singing about yourself."

Hmm…he hadn't thought about that. Had he chosen the song subconsciously? "No, but I agree it's sad. Sometimes it's the sad songs that are the best."

The hall clock chimed, announcing it was midnight. They both decided it was time to get some sleep, as they were tired. Also, they had a busy day tomorrow.

"Goodnight, Jonathan."

He didn't answer, just watched with surprise as she walked into the guestroom. Confused, he followed and knocked on her door. She bid him enter.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, noticing the puzzled expression on his face. She'd just been about to get into bed.

"Err…well I guess I assumed that you'd…but I suppose I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"Excuse me?" She didn't know what he was talking about.

"You wish to sleep alone?" He blurted out.

"Oh…that."

"Look I don't mean to put pressure on you…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

"Jonathan, I hope you'll understand. I thought we both agreed that we're tired.""We did.""Oh good, then you understand."

"Hmm…not exactly. But I wouldn't be offended if you said sharing a bed with a human wasn't comfortable."

"Oh…you are talking about only sleeping?"

"Yes…why did you think—"

"Yes."

"Well I'm not opposed to that idea," he grinned, "…but it is late and we are both sleepy. So wanna join me…just to sleep?" he asked with a smile, holding out his hand.

"I accept." She took his hand and they walked into his bedroom together.

* * *

Jonathan wished T'Pol luck and left her in the capable hands of Hans Schneider for her first skiing lesson. Hans was a tall, stocky built guy with sun bleached blond hair and ocean blue eyes. He looked to be in his early 40s. He towered over Archer who estimated him to be around 6-foot 6.

"Don't worry, Captain. I'll take care of your little Vulcan," Hans smiled.

T'Pol exchanged a look with Archer. She didn't know if she liked being referred to as little.

"See you in two hours," Archer told her, smiling. She nodded and went with Hans to join the rest of the class.

Jonathan watched her for a moment. She looked incredible! Together they'd picked out a great ski suit — it was burgundy and white. The weather was on their side, after a cold night the temperature had picked up and it was around 36F. No need to worry about T'Pol getting cold, her suit was well insulated.

He continued to look on for a few minutes, but not wanting to make T'Pol self-conscious skied off in the direction of the chair lift.

Within ten minutes he was skiing down a slope at tremendous speed. This was so much fun…he almost wished Enterprise were called home for the holidays every year just to get some skiing in. It hadn't snowed last night; the previous night's snow had thawed and refrozen over night. Conditions were a little icy, but he didn't mind. He felt like he was flying as he zoomed down the slope.

He managed to ski down three different slopes in the first hour. Before taking the lift back up again he consulted the trail map, working out how long it would take to get back to T'Pol.

"Hi, Jonathan!"

He looked up from the map and saw it was Sarah Collins.

"Hi, Sarah. How are you?"

"Great. I got your note last night. Sorry you can't make dinner tonight. You busy tomorrow night as well?"

It seemed his polite way of telling her he wasn't interested yesterday hadn't got through. "I've got plans for the rest of my stay."

"Oh? That's a shame. We could have had some fun together. How long you gonna be here?"

"I'm returning to San Francisco on 2nd January."

"Is Enterprise leaving on the 3rd?"

"Not sure, I'd need to check with Admiral Gardener on the retrofit. But shore leave is officially over on the 3rd."

"I'll be back in the city on the 3rd myself. Listen, if you haven't shipped out by the time I get back, maybe we could grab a bite then."

"Perhaps." He felt like a coward. But he couldn't exactly tell her that T'Pol and him were involved.

"So what happened with Commander T'Pol?"

"She decided to stay up here. She's having a skiing lesson at the moment."

"I see."

Jonathan had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Was there a chance that Sarah would be indiscreet and say something to Gardener about him and T'Pol? That was if she thought more than friendship was going on. He dismissed the thought. He was overly paranoid at times.

"I hope she enjoys herself. It's kind of you to be such a good friend."

"What do you mean?" The question popped out without thinking.

"Or it's nothing really. Just months old Starfleet gossip."

Starfleet members had been gossiping about T'Pol? What had they been saying? He debated over whether to ask for details.

Sarah continued without being prompted. "She seemed uncomfortable the other night. I thought perhaps her and Commander Tucker had split up or something and she was turning to you as her friend. When she said it wasn't ship's business, I assumed it was personal."

Did everyone know Trip and T'Pol had been a couple?

"I had no idea such matters were common knowledge."

"They aren't Jonathan. But the whole incident with Terra Prime and the creation of a Vulcan/Human hybrid; the matter was rather public and my department was heavily involved. It led to a whole bunch of speculation."

"Speculation?"

"Starfleet members assumed your chief engineer and first officer were a couple. People were intrigued I guess. I mean they were the first interspecies couple. Can't really blame people for talking."

"Guess not," he answered, not denying a word she'd uttered.

She edged closer to him. "Between you and me, Jonathan, if I'd been T'Pol…I wouldn't have chosen Commander Tucker." She winked at him. "I'll give you a call when I'm back in the city and maybe we can get together." He nodded and she skied off.

He returned to studying his map and tried to put that conversation out of his mind. Once he'd decided on his route he skied up to the chair lift.

* * *

T'Pol glanced at her watch — it was 2:40pm. Jonathan was ten minutes late. Hans stayed with her while she waited.

"Do you think the Kir'shara will be translated into English?" Hans asked. He was fascinated by Vulcan culture.

"I believe scholars are attempting to do so at the moment."

"I look forward to getting a copy then. Doubt I can hope for a German version," he laughed.

"I wouldn't hold out too much hope," T'Pol replied.

On the horizon she spied a tall dark blonde man dressed in an all black outfit skiing towards her. It was Jonathan.

"Sorry I'm late, T'Pol. Did you have a good lesson?" he asked.

"It was excellent."

"She's a natural," interrupted Hans, in a heavy Austrian accent. "She was my star pupil this morning. In fact I think she only needs one or two more lessons and she'll be a pro. I've never seen anyone pick it up so quick."

"Hans says I can try some of the easier intermediate slopes." T'Pol got her own map out and pointed out to Jonathan which runs they could try together.

"That's great," Jonathan remarked.

"You two enjoy your afternoon," Hans added. "And if you can make it for dinner, it will be at 8pm at the Hilton." He skied off in the direction of the gondola.

"Dinner?" Jonathan asked.

"Hans puts on a buffet dinner once a week for all his students. It happened to be tonight so we're invited."

"Ah."

"We don't have to go if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay. Think they'll be anything on the menu for vegetarians?"

"I already asked him. He said yes."

"So you like skiing?"

"It is an exhilarating sport. I'm anxious to try out something more challenging."

"Well let's get to it then," Jonathan answered.

T'Pol asked him again where he'd like to ski this afternoon. When he didn't answer she asked if something was wrong.

"I'm fine," he replied.

"You seem distracted."

"We can talk about it later."

"So I was correct. Why did you say you were fine?""I don't want you to make a big deal of it."

"How can I? I don't even know what is bothering you."

"You're in a good mood, you had a fun skiing lesson. I don't want to spoil that."

"But something is on your mind and when I ask you what it is, I would appreciate your honesty. I don't care for you disguising how you feel. It reminds me too much of how you were in the Expanse."

She skied away from him towards the lift. Oh boy, had he upset her? He followed after her and joined the queue. They stood waiting to board in awkward silence.

"I bumped into Sarah Collins before coming to meet you," he said, after they'd hopped on.

"And this is what upset you?"

"What she said didn't upset me…it was a bit of an eye-opener that's all."

"In what way?" T'Pol's first thought was that the Commander has asked him out on a date or something. From Jonathan's expression it appeared far more serious.

"She insinuated that Starfleet members had been gossiping about you."

"Oh?" she asked with surprise. "I can't imagine I'd be a very interesting topic," she mused light-heartedly.

"You wouldn't be so flippant if you knew what it was about."

"I'm not being flippant. I'm relieved she didn't make a pass at you. Your intentions towards her may have been that of friendship, but that was not the vibe I picked up from her Christmas evening." Archer said nothing. "I surmise this gossip must be very serious then, if it has you all tied up in knots.

"T'Pol, I'm not tied up in knots."

"Your jaw is ridged and your spine is as stiff as a rod."

"Okay," he sighed. "You're right. Let's just enjoy this afternoon. I'm sorry I brought this up."

"You're going to drop the topic now? You aren't even going to share what the gossip was about?" She was intrigued.

"All right. I'll try and summarize. Sarah thought you'd come up here because you'd broken off your relationship with Trip. She assumed you were here crying on my shoulder so to speak and I was doing the good friend routine. I asked her why she thought that. She explained that most of Starfleet assumed you and Trip were a couple."

"There must not be a lot going on around Starfleet if that's considered the juiciest titbit going around. Besides, it is old news."

"You don't care?" he asked, taken aback by her calm reaction.

"You wish me to get upset like you?"

"No, but you seem unaffected."

"I see no reason in expending my energy cultivating unnecessary emotions. I cannot alter the way people think or change their perception of things they know nothing of."

Maybe that was a healthy altitude, he thought.

"Jonathan, are you concerned there will be gossip about you and I?"

He couldn't answer as they'd reached the summit. They jumped off and exited to the right.

"You didn't answer my question," she stated after they'd exited the chair lift area.

"There won't be any gossip because no one knows about us."

"I see. But do you think it will remain a secret?"

He didn't know how to answer. He still didn't know whether this was something that was going to turn into a permanent relationship, or whether it was just a holiday romance. Sure she'd said she didn't want a casual relationship, and neither did he. What did T'Pol want? Did she wish for this to continue after they left Tahoe?

"I don't know, T'Pol. So tell me, what trails did you have in mind?" he asked changing the subject.

"I already told you when we were with Hans. Were you not listening?"

"I can't remember what you said. Refresh my memory."

"How about this yellow trail?" she asked, pointing to it on the map.

"That's quite steep. Think you can manage?"

"Yes," she replied with confidence.

"Okay. You go first, and I'll ski behind you to make sure you're okay."

"There's no need for you to be overprotective." She almost sounded annoyed.

"I'm not. Simply erring on the side of caution."

Pushing her poles into the snow, she propelled herself forward towards the start of the trail. Jonathan followed. Hans was right — she was a great skier and had picked up the sport within one lesson. Her balance and co-ordination were perfect. He kept his distance behind her; he didn't want to plough into her and the trail was rather crowded.

He kept his eyes focused on her — her descent was speedy, he was a little concerned that she could be a tad overconfident. He recalled the first day he'd skied; he thought he was invincible. He'd ended up almost twisting his ankle, and getting a lecture from his dad. After that he'd taken it slowly and kept to his father's side.

They reached the end of the trail without incident. "I can see why you enjoy this so much," T'Pol said.

"It is fun. Hans was right — you're a natural, T'Pol."

"Thank you." Her face looked as if it was about to break into a smile but didn't. Instead her eyes twinkled with amusement. "Can we try that again?"

"Sure."

They spent the rest of the afternoon skiing trail after trail. T'Pol was getting really good, she even attempted some of the more difficult runs. She fell over once or twice, but it was nothing serious. They caught the last gondola back to town, around 4:45pm, just as the sun was setting.

Jonathan put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. "Sleepy?" he asked.

"A little. Must be all the fresh air."

"You've had an exciting, fun-packed day. Plus you're probably still getting acclimatised to the higher elevations."

"Mmm."

He let her rest while he admired the view on the journey down.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Christmas at Lake Tahoe**

**Chapter 6  
**  
As they entered the house T'Pol said she was going to lie down for a while and asked if it was okay to use his bed.

"Of course. You don't need to ask."

"You have a very comfortable mattress," she commented.

"Like I said, no need to ask. Anything else you need?"

She answered no, then inquired if they were going to attend Hans' dinner tonight at the Hilton. Jonathan wasn't over the moon about the idea; he'd rather be alone with her. It sounded like it was something she wanted to do so he agreed. In a way it was pleasant to witness this change in her. He remembered fondly the time they'd spent together on the catwalk, when he'd practically had to order her to fraternize with other crewmembers.

While she rested he took Porthos for a walk. The pup was restless, having spent most of the day alone in the house. On their return he fed him, then went to check his messages on the computer.

There was a communiqué from Admiral Gardener to all crewmembers confirming that Enterprise would be ready to depart on 5th January. The crew was to report back to duty on the 4th, to make preparations for departure. Jonathan switched off the screen and got himself a beer out of the fridge. Feeling slightly hungry he munched on some potato chips while he read more of the sci-fi thriller Malcolm had bought him for Christmas.

T'Pol emerged from the bedroom an hour later, hair askew, dressed in her robe. Jonathan smiled as he spied her walking in. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Almost 7pm."

"We should get ready then," she said, noting he was still dressed in his black ski suit.

"What's the dress code for this shindig?"

She assumed he meant the dinner. "Casual, I believe. But I don't think you can go in your ski suit." She noted he hadn't changed since coming back from skiing.

"Jeans and a sweater be okay?"

"I believe so."

"What you wearing?"

"Something similar. A pair of black pants and a sweater."

"When did you get all these Earth clothes?" He'd never seen her wear then aboard Enterprise.

"When I was staying with Soval, I often spent the days roaming around Union Square perusing the different shops. Phlox accompanied me one afternoon. He wanted my opinion on a gift he wished to purchase for you."

"The cologne?"

"Yes, he was in a hurry. He was leaving for Denobula the next morning and didn't have a lot of time."

"You picked it out?" he asked.

"Phlox had narrowed it down to a choice of three. I picked the one I preferred."

"You made a great choice. Why didn't you attend the crew get together at the 602 if you were in town?"

"I was not aware of it. You didn't invite me."

"It was Hoshi who organized it. I suppose she thought you'd gone to Florida with Trip as well."

She exhaled and made her way towards the living room window. It had started to snow again. "Does everyone think I'm still involved with Commander Tucker?" she asked in a whisper.

He got up to join her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I don't know. It's not as if you made an announcement that you'd split up."

"I never announced we were together."

"T'Pol, are you upset? Earlier when I mentioned what Sarah Collins said you weren't bothered."

"I am not concerned what people who don't know me think. But I wish my colleagues didn't make assumptions."

"Well maybe I shouldn't speak for Hoshi. I don't know why she didn't invite you to the 602 club. It could be a simple case of she didn't know where to reach you."

T'Pol didn't answer. She didn't want to admit that Hoshi's excluding her injured her a little. She was supposed to the model of stoicism — the perfect Vulcan. Trivialities like social gatherings with the crew should have left her feeling indifferent. And she almost wished she and Trip had announced to the crew that they were simply friends.

The crew had probably started whispering about her and Trip long ago. Tales of Vulcan neuropressure had probably swept threw the ship like wildfire whilst they'd been in the Expanse. She couldn't undo the past.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked with concern.

"Yes," she whispered.

Jonathan's hold on her tightened and she felt his warm lips nibble at her neck. She relaxed at his touch and thoughts of Trip and the crew's assumptions vanished. She turned around in his arms and he bent down to kiss her. Their embrace soon became passionate.

"We can't," she whispered. "We'll be late."

"Think Hans would mind?"

"I don't like being late."

"Okay," he answered a tad disappointed. He released her. "I'll go shower and change."

"Jonathan?" she said as he walked towards his bedroom.

"Yeah?" He stopped and turned to face her.

"We can always pick up where we left off later tonight."

He beamed at her, returning to her side. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I like the sound of that." He told her he wouldn't be long, and headed off to get ready.

* * *

Hans Schneider had reserved the entire restaurant at the Hilton for tonight's buffet. Jonathan and T'Pol entered at 8 o'clock sharp.

"Liebling!" Hans' called across the room.

Jonathan glanced around wondering whom he was calling to. Then he saw Hans making a path towards himself and T'Pol.

He kissed T'Pol's hand and shook Jonathan's. "I've been telling everyone about my star pupil," he enthused. "I'm glad you both could make it. I hope you're both hungry. Please help yourselves," he instructed pointing to the extensive buffet to the right of them. "There should be something that tempts your palette."

They did as instructed and proceeded over to the buffet. T'Pol started out with a plate of salad, while Jonathan helped himself to the leek and potato soup which looked appetizing. He had a hot bread roll with it.

They found a vacant table and sat down. "I can no idea Hans had so many students," T'Pol observed, noting the restaurant was crowded.

"Do you know if they are all students? Some could be other instructors or just friends he's made."

"That's true." She sliced a celery stick into biteable portions and then loaded her fork with one of the pieces along with a piece of tomato and cucumber. "Jonathan, is Liebling a German word?"

"Yes. I was going to ask you about that and if you knew what it meant."

"I don't. I assumed it was some type of friendly greeting. He used it this afternoon during the lesson with most of the female students."

"I suppose he does mean it in a friendly way then."

"And it's meaning?" she asked.

"I believe it's the German form of darling."

"In English that is considered an endearment between men and women, is it not?"

"Most of the time," he agreed. "It depends, sometimes friends use it amongst themselves."

Finishing his soup, Jonathan got up to get himself a main course and asked T'Pol if he could get her anything. She replied that she'd help herself when she was ready.

He perused what was on offer. There was a large selection of meats, fish, pastas, pizza, rice, and vegetarian dishes in the hot food section. He placed small portions of different items on his plate, wanting to sample as much as possible.

As he returned to the table he noticed T'Pol and Hans engaged in lively conversation. He was laughing, and kept touching her arm. T'Pol appeared amused. Jonathan joined them. "Am I missing out on a good joke?" he asked.

"I was telling T'Pol the story of one of my students back in Austria. She had endless lessons but could not get the hang of it. She was convinced she'd be a world class skier and even I could not dissuade her. When I left for the States, I'd heard she signed up for lessons with my friend Gerhard. I had to warn him, so he knew what he was letting himself in for."

Jonathan wasn't sure why the story was funny, but smiled to be polite.

"I'm glad to see you have a healthy appetite, Captain," Hans noted.

"You have an extensive choice. It's hard not be a glutton."

"That's what a smorgasbord is all about. Enjoy yourself! And there's freshly baked strudel, so remember to leave room for that."

"Sounds delicious," Jonathan enthused.

"It is, Captain. I gave the restaurant's chef my sister's recipe. She makes the best strudel in all of Austria."

"I'll make a point of trying it then."

"Good! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to attend to my other guests. See you both a little later." Hans walked off to mingle with others.

"He seems very friendly," Jonathan noted.

"Yes he is." She finished her salad and went to see what vegetarian dishes were on offer.

For dessert Jonathan picked the apple strudel and had it served with ice cream. T'Pol took a bite from Jonathan's plate. He'd attempted to coerce her into having her own piece, but to no avail.

"Don't like it?" he asked, after she sampled a piece.

"It is too sweet, like all Earth desserts."

As dinner came to a close, she noticed a group of people enter and start to set up musical equipment at the far end of the room.

"Looks like Hans has hired a band," Jonathan said. "He really does this every week?"

"From what I gather, yes. Perhaps the band is something special as it's the holidays."

A few minutes later the band began to play and couples drifted onto the dance floor. Jonathan was about to ask T'Pol if she'd like to try, when Hans appeared out of nowhere and asked her first.

"Thank you, but I'll decline. I don't know how to dance."

"That's not an excuse. You'll pick it up in five minutes, trust me."

T'Pol attempted to make further excuses but it was obvious Hans wasn't going to take no for an answer, so she relented. After they got up and left, Jonathan couldn't believe he'd just sat there and said nothing. He should have told Hans she was going to dance with him, but then that would have been a lie. He hadn't had a chance to ask her, Hans had beat him to it!

He turned his head in the direction of the dance floor and watched them. He wished he was the one teaching T'Pol. The Austrian had been correct again. Within a couple minutes, T'Pol had mastered dancing.

* * *

"You're a delightful dancer," Hans complimented her.

"It isn't as difficult as it looks," she noted. "Do you have dancing every week?"

"No, I hired a band just for tonight's dinner. I was going to have a New Year's Eve party, but I have to be in San Francisco that night to pick up my fiancée from the airport. She's flying in from Vienna."

"That's nice."

"Yes I haven't seen her since the end of October. Long distance relationships can be difficult. I miss her."

"Can she not find work here?" T'Pol asked.

"She wouldn't want to live in the States. She loves Austria. I'll be back there when the ski season is over here. I'm a tour guide, taking groups hiking through the Alps in the summer months."

"And your fiancée?"

"She joins me, she has the summers free. She works as a teacher and schools shut in early July for the summer vacation."

"Well at least you get to spend some time together. That's more than a lot of Starfleet crew get."

"Yes. That is a downside of space exploration it seems. May I ask you something, T'Pol?"

She nodded.

"Captain Archer and you…are you couple?"T'Pol didn't know how to answer. Hans didn't belong to Starfleet. But how would Jonathan feel if she told her ski instructor they were involved? Out on the slopes today he'd seemed adamant about keeping it a secret.

"We are close friends," she answered. That reply seemed safer.

"Only friends? Hmm…I was sure there was more to it.""Why do you say that?"

"I've been told I'm a good observer of people. Also, from the way your captain is watching us right now, he doesn't appear very pleased that I asked you to dance before he had a chance to. I hope I didn't upset him."

"I'm sure you didn't," she answered, glancing in Jonathan's direction. Hans was right, he didn't look very happy.

"I'll tell you a little confession, T'Pol. It was an experiment — I wanted to see his reaction. But it was just a bit of fun, nothing serious."

"Oh."

"You're not upset with me are you?"

"No."

"You and Archer make a handsome couple. I believe you care for him a lot. If you really are just friends, I think you should change that. Life is so short, when you find the right partner you shouldn't waste time not being with them…or pretending to just be friends."

She was amazed at how intuitive this man appeared to be. Or were his guesses very lucky?

The music came to a close and the band announced a five-minute intermission. "Thank you, T'Pol." He walked her back to the table where Jonathan was waiting.

"Your Vulcan is an excellent dancer," Hans told Jonathan.

"I noticed," he answered.

"Thank you again, T'Pol. Enjoy the rest of your evening." Hans left and went to talk to another one of his guests.

Jonathan sipped at the beer he'd got from the bar while waiting for T'Pol to finish her dance lesson. "Enjoy yourself?"

The sarcasm was not lost on her. She was in no mood to start an argument with him. "I didn't wish to be rude. Would you have preferred it if I'd said no?"

"Is that the way it was with Trip? You didn't wish to be rude."

"Jonathan, why are you acting this way?"

"What way?"

"Like a jealous fool. It's unbecoming. I don't understand. Earlier you were the one telling me that Hans was merely being friendly."

"Perhaps I was mistaken."

"Actually your presumption was accurate."

She was about to tell him about Hans' fiancée but then decided against it. She shouldn't have to prove anything to him. And what did he mean about Trip? She was perplexed. He was hard to fathom.

He drank his beer and said nothing. The musicians returned to their instruments and began to play.

"Would you like to dance?" she asked Jonathan.

"Not really," he answered. "Besides, I have two left feet, I wouldn't want to step on your toes."

T'Pol was sure he wasn't telling the truth. He was merely being difficult because Hans had danced with her first. "Very well," she replied icily, "let's go home then." They bumped into Hans on their way out, and he thanked them again for coming and told T'Pol he'd see her tomorrow for her lesson at 10am.

* * *

The journey back home was in silence. T'Pol was annoyed at Jonathan's overreaction to her dancing with Hans. It seemed juvenile. Or was it insecurity? She had no knowledge of his previous relationships with women, so didn't know why he should be insecure.

Jonathan walked into his bedroom wordlessly as they entered. He shut the door behind him. Was that a sign? Did it mean she was unwelcome? She waited a few minutes, then knocked on his door.

There was no answer, but she entered regardless. The room was empty. The bathroom door was shut. She sat down on the edge of his bed and waited for him to re-appear.

He came out prepared for bed. "Were you going to fall asleep without saying goodnight?" she asked.

"I'm tired."

"I think we should talk."

"I don't."

"You're upset about something."

He didn't answer.

"Jonathan, if you talk to me maybe I can attempt to understand…this behaviour of yours."

"You mean my foolish behaviour?"

"So he asked me to dance and I accepted. Why would that upset you? From my knowledge of Earth customs, dancing is not a proposal of marriage."

"Fine. Make jokes about it."

"Well maybe if you laughed at yourself, you wouldn't be so tightly wound. It was all a joke anyway."

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

"Hans asked me to see how you'd react. He had a theory and wanted to test it out."

"Nice!" He felt cold so put his robe on.

"Jonathan, there was a time when you would have laughed over something like this."

"When?"

It was before the Expanse. He'd smiled, laughed and joked a whole lot more than he did now. The post-Expanse Archer was subdued and serious.

He sat down next to her on the bed.

"I'm jealous, T'Pol. I didn't used to be. Before…before I thought we had all the time in the world. I didn't have to tell you how I felt because I didn't expect anyone else to vie for your affections. But Trip beat me to it…"

"Jonathan—"

"There's nothing for you to say. It's how I feel."

"And seeing me dancing with Hans reminded you of this past jealousy?"

"I guess. Sure it was simple thing like dancing, but I wanted to be the one to teach you. But for all I know Trip's probably beaten me to that as well."

"I have never danced with Trip. My relationship with Trip is in the past. As for Hans, well as you yourself said earlier tonight, he was being friendly. He's engaged and his fiancée is flying in New Year's Eve."

"Oh."

"Do you see how your jealousy is without foundation?"

"I guess."

That's all he had to say? She found him distant and incommunicative. Why was he putting up walls between the two of them?

She kissed him gently on the lips. "Didn't we have some unfinished business from earlier?" she whispered in his ear as she nibbled on his lobe.

He moved away from her. "I'm not in the mood, T'Pol."

"I see." Well he'd made his position very clear. She said goodnight and retired to the guestroom.

* * *

Jonathan woke up with a bad headache. He'd slept in a bad position and his neck felt really stiff. He climbed out of bed and put on a robe. He owed T'Pol an apology for acting like a jackass last night. What had come over him? Not wanting to dance with her and then refusing to spend the night with her? Was he totally nuts?

He hated it when his insecurities got the better of him. If he had to have them, at least he should try to keep them to himself. Putting them out on display was the last thing he wanted. She'd been right — he'd overreacted. And a few years ago he would have laughed at Hans' joke.

He needed to get past the fact that she'd had a relationship with Trip. It didn't seem to bother T'Pol that he'd had past relationships. But he wondered how she'd feel if Margaret, Caroline, Erika or Rebecca were part of the senior crew and had to sit across from her at meal times. Would she understand how he felt then?

He'd tossed and turned last night, before finally drifting off. The bed had been so large without T'Pol at his side. His arms had felt so empty without her to hold. This wasn't going to work out, was it? It had all been too good to be true, her turning up on Christmas Day like that. He'd thought that maybe he could make her love him.

Now in the light of day it seemed he'd sabotaged his chance. Perhaps he should try to salvage what was left of their friendship…that is if she was still talking to him. Before the dinner last night things had seemed so promising…

He exited his room and noticed the door to the guestroom was open. There was no sign of T'Pol. The bed was neatly made up. His first thought was that she'd packed up and returned to San Francisco until he noticed her hand cream on the dresser.

He walked into the living room, calling her name but there was no answer. He spied a note on the kettle, just like the one he'd left her the other day. On it she wrote that she was taking the shuttle bus to Heavenly to attend her skiing class at 10am. She'd be finished at 1pm. If he wanted to meet with her then, she'd be pleased to see him.

He let out a sigh of relief. Things didn't seem that dire!

He had breakfast, took Porthos for a walk and prepared to meet T'Pol. He arrived at the Heavenly Valley gondola around 12:30pm. As he waited in line he noticed there was a weather warning posted outside the ticket booth. A weather front was heading in. The probability of a severe snowstorm was 80. Skiers were advised to be cautious — visibility could become poor. It also stated that if the winds became too strong the gondola and chair lifts would close.

"What's the chance of the lifts being shut down?" he asked the ticket vendor.

"We just put that sign up as a precaution. I wouldn't worry, sir."

"Okay, thanks." He bought his ticket and made the journey up to the summit. He didn't put his skies on straight away. T'Pol might be hungry after her lesson and want to grab a bite. He tied them up to one of the ski stands provided, and strolled over to join T'Pol.

Hans was bringing the lesson to a close, and announced that tomorrow's session would be at the same time. The class dissipated and Jonathan saw Hans saying something in private to T'Pol.

A moment later she skied over to join him. "I'm pleased you came."

He smiled at her. "How did the lesson go?"

"Very well. I won't require anymore. Hans says if I wanted to continue I'd need to join his intermediate class."

"So you're still the star pupil?"

"Indeed she is, Captain," Hans joined in. "You two going skiing this afternoon?"

"We were hoping to," Jonathan replied. "What do you make of this weather warning?"

"A little snowstorm never hurt anyone. Course if you can't see where you are going, I'd suggest you pack up for the day. Otherwise, just enjoy yourselves."

He wished them a pleasant afternoon and left. "I'm sorry about last night—" Jonathan started.

"I know you are."

"I don't deserve you. I wish—"

"Let's not talk about it now, Jonathan. If this bad weather is headed our way, I think it would be prudent to use the time we have skiing."

"You're right. Did you want to grab a bite before we start?"

"I'm not hungry. Are you?"

"A little."

"Very well, let's eat something."

Jonathan had a hot dog, fries, a danish and washed it down with a hot coffee. T'Pol merely watched as he consumed all this food. He offered her some fries, but she declined.

"Skiing gives me quite an appetite," he commented.

"So I see."

"You sure you don't want anything? I mean you had breakfast hours ago."

"I had a cereal bar about an hour ago. I will be fine."

He reached his hand across the table and placed it over hers. "I'm really sorry about last night."

"Jonathan, this is a public place."

"I don't care."

"Yesterday you indicated you wished to be discreet."

"I said a lot of stupid things yesterday."

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. "We should leave. It's getting late."

"Okay."

Outside he put his sunglasses on. It was bright and sunny, the weathermen were probably wrong about this storm. T'Pol was about to retrieve her skies from the stand, when Jonathan grabbed her from behind.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. "I know I can act like an idiot at times, so hopefully you'll forgive me and remember that."

"I know, Jonathan," she said turning to face him.

He kissed her on the lips in full public view. To a passer-by they looked like a man in sunglasses in a black ski suit embracing a young woman in a burgundy and white suit.

Fifteen minutes later they hopped off the chair lift and headed for their first slope.

* * *

It was 3:30pm and still no sign of the predicted storm. The sky however had changed. Jonathan surveyed the clouds — they looked dark and a little threatening, but for the time being he gathered they were safe.

Half an hour later the flakes began to fall. At first it was just a light snowfall, but soon picked up momentum. "We should head down to the gondola," Jonathan suggested. "The visibility will be poor soon."

She agreed and set off first. Jonathan had been about to follow but noticed the binding on his ski was loose. He called out to her to wait, but she was already out of earshot. He bent down and adjusted the binding. Satisfied that it was secure he set off.

By now he couldn't even see more than a few feet in front of him. Everything was a white expanse. There was no sign of T'Pol, but he assumed she was far ahead of him by now.

He was cautious on the journey down, no point in speeding down when you couldn't see where you were going. He'd been in these conditions before but was a little concerned for T'Pol. He told himself she'd be fine and was probably at the bottom impatiently waiting for him. Hopefully she'd got into the queue for the gondola ride down.  
The wind was really picking up, blowing the snow off the trees into his path. The temperature had dropped. His face felt numb.

Five minutes later he was approaching the bottom of the slope. He stopped and looked around for a burgundy and white suit. No sign of her yet. Visibility was poor, so he skied over to the gondola. He noted the chair lift up to the mountain he'd just skied down had stopped. The chairs were swinging in the wind — he assumed they'd deemed it too dangerous to continue running the lift.

He hoped they wouldn't shut the gondola down. He didn't care for the idea of being stranded up here for several hours waiting for the storm to pass.

He arrived at the queue and removed his skies. He started looking around for T'Pol. There was no sign of her. He walked the length of the queue twice to make sure. He noticed Hans was there talking to one of his students.

"Have you seen T'Pol?" Jonathan asked.

"Not since the lesson, no. Is there a problem, Captain?"

"I doubt it. She skied off ahead of me, I assumed she'd be here waiting for me."

"Would you like me to help you look?"

"No thanks. I'm sure she'll turn up." It was too early to worry, he told himself.

He walked back to the start of the queue and scanned the area. It was hard to see anything with the snow practically falling into your eyes. It seemed to be coming down at a horizontal angle now.

He took out his communicator and tried contacting her. There was no answer. If she were still skiing down, she wouldn't be able to answer. He couldn't do anything else but wait.

He positioned himself at the foot of the mountain, staring out into the white expanse. No one else was skiing down. The slope looked empty and deserted. He tried the communicator again — no response. He went over to inspect the gondola line once more, but no sign of her. He went inside the café where they'd had lunch. He doubted she was there, but he had to rule out all possibilities.

It had been half an hour now since he'd arrived here and he was getting anxious. What if she'd been injured? She was stuck out in this snowstorm. He tried the communicator one more time…then decided it was time to get some help.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Christmas at Lake Tahoe**

**Chapter 7  
**  
Jonathan approached the guy manning the gondola and asked whom he needed to speak to about a missing person.

"What's the problem exactly, sir?"

"I was skiing with my…friend. She went ahead of me and I expected her to be down here waiting for me when I arrived. She isn't. I've tried contacting her but there is no response. I'm concerned she's stuck out in this weather, injured or maybe even unconscious. She needs to be found." Jonathan tried to keep the panic out of his voice.

"You need to speak to a member of TNSAR. They can help you co-ordinate a rescue."

"Who are they and where do I find a member?"

"One of their offices is inside the building over there." He pointed to the mountain café where Archer had eaten earlier. "It's the Tahoe Nordic Search and Rescue Team."

"Thanks," Archer said, and walked briskly towards said building. He noticed someone following him and turned around. It was Hans.

"I overhead your conversation, Captain. I'd like to help."

"Thanks. Do you think she'll be okay?"

"T'Pol seems very resilient. I'm sure in a few hours we can all laugh about this over a drink. She might still be skiing down at this moment, merely taking her time because of the bad weather."

"Yeah…you're probably right. I suppose I'm worrying for nothing."

"Well it's a good idea to notify the search and rescue people just to be on the safe side."

"Right."

Jonathan glanced up the slope once more before entering the building. It was barely visible; there wasn't a sign of anyone. He walked inside, with Hans following closely behind. He opened the glass door to the TNSAR office, and found a group of three people busy taking calls, sat at their desks. One of them, a woman, removed her earpiece and approached Archer.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

Jonathan explained the situation.

"And you've tried contacting her several times?"

"Yes on my Starfleet communicator. Inclement weather doesn't affect them. If she's not answering well either her communicator is damaged somehow, or—"

"You fear she's been injured?" the woman finished his sentence.

He nodded, trying to remain calm. "You are?" she asked Hans.

"Hans Schneider, I'm T'Pol's ski instructor. I told the captain I'd stick around in case I could help."

"How good a skier is she? That slope is pretty steep," she noted, pointing to the mountain outside the window.

"She's a beginner," Hans explained. "But I've been amazed at her progress. In good weather, I don't see how she'd have any trouble coming down."

"Hmm…good weather. Those are the key words, Mr Schneider, aren't they? Let me see what I can do. We've had a few skiers reported missing because of the weather so our search teams are busy."

"You can't send someone right now?" Jonathan asked.

"I have all three of our shuttlepods scanning the area around Heavenly looking for around seven people. Three were reported missing before the storm. I will get in touch with the pilots and inform them to look for another person. You mentioned she's Vulcan?"

"Yes," Jonathan answered.

"That presents a problem."

"How?"

"Our scanners are only calibrated to pick up human life signs."

"You saying you could fly right over her and not know she's there?"

"Basically, unless she was visible from the ground. What's she wearing?"

Jonathan replied she was in a burgundy and white suit. He was growing impatient with the lack of progress. He heard the woman contact one of the pilots, giving T'Pol's description.

"He'll keep a look out but he's not in that area at the moment but on the far side of the resort," she explained.

"And that's all you can do?" Jonathan began to raise his voice.

"I'm sure they are doing their best." Hans attempted to calm the captain.

"It's not good enough! Do you know who I am?" he asked the woman.

"You already said your name was Jonathan Archer. And Mr Schneider called you captain — so I assume you're the famous Captain Archer of Starfleet. However, none of that changes anything. Do you think I can speed up your colleague's rescue just because you're members of Starfleet?"

"The captain meant no harm, Miss—"

"Andrews. My name is Melanie Andrews."

"You must understand. He's overwrought," Hans continued. "T'Pol and he, well they aren't just colleagues."

Jonathan shot him a glance — what was Hans saying?

"Mr Schneider, I deal with people anxious for their loved ones every day. I understand the captain's concern. Believe me, I'm doing all I can within my power. All I can suggest now is you wait. Why not go have a coffee next door and come back in ten minutes for an update?"

"Thank you Miss Andrews. We'll do that."

Hans led Archer out of the office, and into the cafeteria. "Want anything to eat?" he asked as he sat him down at a table.

"Err…no, coffee's fine."

Jonathan felt helpless and in a daze. How could he sit here drinking coffee while T'Pol lay somewhere unconscious in a snowdrift? She wouldn't even show up on the search and rescue team's scanner. Of what use were they?

He pulled out his communicator again and hoped against hope that T'Pol might respond. He tried several times but nothing.

Hans returned with their coffees. "I didn't know if you took sugar so I didn't sweeten it. But here's some sachets."

"Thanks."

"You look like hell, Captain. Don't worry, she'll be okay."

Jonathan ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. "How can you be so sure? I'm an idiot. I should never have let her go off on her own. I was gonna be right behind her, but my ski binding became loose and I had to adjust it. By the time I'd done that, she was nowhere to be seen."

"Have you had any close calls on any of your missions together?"

Jonathan laughed sadly. "Yeah…but I was the one that was always being rescued. I got myself into so many scrapes, and she always saved the day. I got sentenced to a Klingon prison camp once and she rescued me. Another time I almost got myself hanged and she arrived, guns ablazing so to speak and saved my sorry ass."

"A little snow storm sounds like a walk in the park in comparison."

"I don't know," he shrugged, emptying the sugar sachets into his coffee. "By the way, what makes you think T'Pol and I are more than colleagues?""Because you are."

"What did T'Pol tell you?"

"She said you were only friends."

"But you think otherwise?"

"I'm not blind, Captain. I knew from the morning of her first lesson, the way you hovered around protectively. I've seen the way you look at her. It's obvious you love her."

"Oh." Jonathan had no idea he'd ever been obvious. "Even if you think that, why say it to Miss Andrews?"

"Well I had to explain why you were getting so upset."

"Yeah, guess I shouldn't have raised my voice or brought up my position at Starfleet. To be honest, I loathed doing so. I wasn't thinking straight."

"Like I said Captain, you were overwrought. It's perfectly understandable."

"Yeah well I used to shrink back from that kind of thing. When Enterprise first returned from the Expanse over 18 months ago they tried to brand me as some kind of hero. I could get into any restaurant in San Francisco without a reservation. People would stop me for autographs and thank me in the streets. I hated it."

"I can imagine celebrity status could be unnerving."

Jonathan finished his coffee and got up.

"It not ten minutes yet, they won't have any news," Hans reminded him.

"I can't just sit here."

"Captain, what else do you suggest?"

He sat back down. "I don't know." He glanced around the room — it was mostly empty except for a few employees who were cleaning up after patrons who'd left their dirty dishes on the tables. "One thing I hate is feeling helpless and out of control."

He remembered T'Pol had journeyed up from San Francisco in a Starfleet shuttlepod. It had scanning equipment onboard that would easily find a Vulcan and it was sitting idly in his garage right now. The only problem was that it would probably take almost an hour to get to the house and back.

Then an idea struck him. He pulled out his communicator and put a call into Commander Sarah Collins.

* * *

Ten minutes later a Starfleet shuttle was landing a few feet from the mountain café. Jonathan and Hans ran into the blizzard and hopped inside.

"Welcome aboard, Jonathan," Sarah greeted.

"Boy am I grateful you came up to Tahoe in a shuttle and not by car," Jonathan commented, as he sat down. He introduced Hans to Sarah.

"Any sign of T'Pol?" he asked her, fear in his voice.

"Not yet. It's quite a heavy storm, might be interfering with the scanners. These aren't as powerful as the ones you have onboard the shuttles in Enterprise's hangers. These shuttles are mainly used for travelling short distances on Earth."

"Well at least they are calibrated for most life forms."

"That they are." Sarah's hands flew across the controls and they were airborne. She flew up toward the slope Archer indicated.

He glanced at his watch. It had been over an hour and a half since he'd last seen T'Pol. She'd have been better off getting lost or injured in a desert than the mountains. Next trip we go to Death Valley he thought.

"Anything Sarah?" he asked with impatience. Why weren't the scanners picking anything up?

"Not yet, I'm still circling the area. I'll lower the shuttle a little. The closer we are to the ground, the better the scanners will work."

"Okay."

"You have a lot of sophisticated equipment on these shuttles," Hans noted.

"Sarah, why don't you let me fly the shuttle." Jonathan said, getting up.

"You convinced you're the best pilot in Starfleet, Jonathan? I came top in my class at flight school. Sit back. You won't find her any faster than I will."

"What's that?" Hans asked, hearing a faint bleeping noise.

"It's my communicator!" Jonathan answered excitedly, unzipping his suit to retrieve it.

"Archer," he answered. There was a lot of interference and crackling on the other end. "Hello?"

"Jonathan?"

"T'Pol! Thank God. Where are you?"

"I…I don't know. I must have strayed from the trail. I had an accident…my head…it hurts."

"Don't worry, we're on our way."

"Can you locate her communicator signal?" he asked Sarah.

She was working on it already, fiddling with dials and buttons. "Got it! Tell her we'll be there in a minute."

"Hear that T'Pol? Hang on, we're almost there."

Relief washed over him, but he was anxious about her injury. He hoped it wasn't serious.

Two minutes later Sarah landed the craft in a small clearing amongst a large group of trees. This was definitely far off the original trail; she must have really got lost. Jonathan sprinted out and found T'Pol sitting in the snow, her back leaning against a tree. She looked almost as white as the snow around her. He had no idea as to the extent of her injury, only that her head hurt. He couldn't see any blood. He wished they had a medic with them, or at least a collar to restrict her neck, so any movement wouldn't worsen the injury.

"Stay put," he instructed. "I'll carry you to the shuttle."

"I can walk, Jonathan," she answered, attempting to get up.

"I wouldn't recommend that. Let's get you inside. You're probably freezing."

He crouched down and placed one arm under her legs and another around her waist, lifting her from the snow. Hans had collected her skies and poles, placing them inside the shuttle while Jonathan attended to T'Pol.

He carried her inside, sitting down with her in his lap. He instructed Sarah to fly them to the local hospital.  
"How you feeling, T'Pol?" he asked.

"Tired and my head hurts a lot."

"You'll be okay," he reassured. "I tried contacting you several times on your communicator. Did you not hear it bleeping?"

"No, I think I passed out."

She must have hit her head pretty badly for that to happen. "Do you remember what happened?"

"After I left you I could hardly see anything in front of me. I skied to the left to avoid someone I think — then I must have got off course. It suddenly became very steep and I lost balance. I tumbled in the snow, losing my skis. As I fell I remember hitting my head. The next thing I knew I woke up in the snow dazed and confused. I was freezing cold and my head was splitting. That's when I contacted you."

"You were unconscious for quite some time then," Hans noted.

"I presume so."

"Don't worry, T'Pol. We'll get the doctors to check you out." Jonathan tried to sound reassuring. He wished Phlox wasn't on Denobula. Would the doctors here even know how to treat T'Pol? Vulcan physiology was so different to human.

"Hans, can you reach up and get that med kit? It's just above you." Hans did as requested. "Open it and they'll be a medical scanner inside."

"Here, Captain." Hans passed him the scanner. Jonathan ran it over T'Pol and examined the results. He was relieved to find she had no broken bones or sprains. He'd need something more sophisticated to assess a head injury.

"Jonathan?" T'Pol asked.

"No broken bones. We'll have to see what they say at the hospital."

"I'm cold." He asked Hans to pass him one of the extra blankets in the shuttle and wrapped it around T'Pol.

"What's our ETA, Sarah?"

"Almost there. I contacted them letting them know they've got a Vulcan patient en-route."

"Thanks." He hadn't even heard her doing so. Sarah was an efficient officer; she deserved a position aboard a starship if that's what she wanted.

A few minutes later Jonathan walked into the hospital with T'Pol in his arms. He placed her on a gurney and she was wheeled into the ER. Hans and Sarah retired to the waiting area while Jonathan insisted on staying with T'Pol. A few medical staff tried to shoo him into the waiting area but he wouldn't hear of it. He asked to speak to the neurologist on call.

One of the younger doctors was shining a light in T'Pol's eyes and asking her to follow his finger. A nurse took her blood pressure. "I have no idea if this is considered normal for a Vulcan," she informed the doctor. A radiologist came in and took a scan of her head.

"We are a bit out of our league, Captain," the doctor said.

"What about your neurologist?"

"He's on his way, but I doubt he'll know any more. We don't study Vulcan physiology in medical school."

"No I suppose you don't." What should he do? "If she was human, what would your conclusions be?"

"I'd say she's got a concussion. She'll probably experience some tiredness, dizziness, with the possibility of memory loss over the next couple days. She should just take it easy. Do you know exactly how she hit her head?"

"She fell while she was skiing."

"Well this kind of injury is rather common in these parts. The only thing is that what's normal for a human may not be normal for her. I wish I could be of more assistance, Captain."

He left as the neurologist entered, introduced himself to Archer and began to examine T'Pol.

"Jonathan…" She moved her head away from the neurologist's light.

"They're just checking you out, T'Pol."

"I'm tired. Can't we go back to the house?"

"Soon. Just a little while longer and it'll be over."

"Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere, T'Pol," he smiled.

"I need to tell you…"

"Sshh, T'Pol. We can talk later. Just let the doctor finish his tests."

Her headache was getting worse. The pounding seemed to gain strength each minute. She wanted to tell Jonathan something. As she'd waited in the snow for the shuttle to land she'd decided it couldn't wait. He should know the truth about her and Trip — it was obvious he needed it spelling it. This probably wasn't the best time to tell him however, not in front of all the medical staff. She'd wait till they returned to his house.

The light they shone in her eyes was bright and merely exacerbated her headache. "Do you have something for the pain?" she asked. Jonathan stroked her head in comfort.

"I can give you a mild painkiller. Since I don't have your medical records I don't want to give you anything too strong in case of adverse reactions," the neurologist explained. He instructed the nurse to prepare a hypospray of something. He injected T'Pol with it, saying she should feel a slight improvement in a few minutes.

Another nurse walked in with the scans of T'Pol's head. The neurologist studied them. "I can't see any visible trauma. I'd agree with my colleague and confirm the diagnosis of concussion. It fits with all the symptoms. If you want to play it safe I'd suggest you get her seen by a Vulcan doctor," he told Archer.

The nearest Vulcan doctor was at the consulate in Sausalito. "Would it be safe for her to travel to San Francisco?" Jonathan asked.

"I wish I could say, Captain. This is really a guessing game. For the time being, I'd suggest taking her home and letting her get plenty of rest."

"It's safe for her to sleep?"

"Again if she were human, I'd say yes."

"Thanks, Doctor." He thought for a moment then turned to T'Pol. "I'll be back in a minute."

"But you said you wouldn't go…"

"I'll be right back."

He dashed out of the exam room, down the hall to where Hans and Sarah where. They both stood up as he entered and asked about T'Pol's condition. He told them briefly what the doctors said. Addressing Sarah he said, "I need a favour."

"Of course, Jonathan."

"If you can't do this, I'll go myself."

"What do you need?"

"Would you be willing to fly down to Sausalito and get a Vulcan doctor from the consulate to return with you?"

"It's not a problem. I'd be happy to help. I can be there and back within the hour."

"Thanks, Sarah. I just don't want to take any chances. The docs here are guessing as to her condition, and I won't rest easy until I know she's okay."

Sarah smiled and said she'd leave right away. She asked Jonathan if she should contact the consulate first. He said he'd get a message to Soval himself so they'd be expecting her.

"So I should bring the doctor back to your house?" she asked.

"Yes."

"See you in about an hour then." With that she left, striding down the hospital corridor towards her shuttlepod.

* * *

While the doctors discharged T'Pol, Hans went to his apartment to retrieve his car and drove back to the hospital. He found a pale looking T'Pol in a wheelchair waiting at the entrance with Archer.

Jonathan gently placed T'Pol on the back seat. "You feeling dizzy?" he asked.

"A little, but that is normal…yes?"

Jonathan smiled. "I believe so. I'm sure you'll be back to your old self in a day or two." He walked around to the other side of the car and got in, wrapping his arm around T'Pol. "Is the pain any better?"

"A little bit." The truth was the medication they'd given her at the hospital had barely touched the pain, but she didn't want Jonathan to worry anymore than he already was.

She leaned on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She felt sleepy.

"Should you let her sleep?" Hans asked, turning his head to check on them in the back.

"The doctors said it was okay."Hans asked for Jonathan's address and the captain instructed him on the shortest route back to the house. "I appreciate your help. You must have had plans this afternoon. Thanks for taking the time out."

"I'm happy to help, Captain. Besides with the bad weather my advanced class for this afternoon was cancelled."

Within a few minutes they were at the house. Jonathan carried T'Pol in and placed her on his bed in his room. He knew she found it more comfortable — and her comfort was of utmost importance.

Hans said that if it were all right with Jonathan he'd like to wait around until the Vulcan doctor arrived. He wanted to know T'Pol was going to be okay.

"Of course. Make yourself at home. I'll be with you in a few minutes." Hans nodded, allowing Archer and T'Pol to have some privacy. He went to the living room and waited.

"How you feeling now?"

"About the same," she answered.

"Pain still pretty bad, huh?"

"I'll live, Jonathan."

"I got in touch with Soval and a Vulcan doctor from the consulate is on their way to check you out. In the meantime I think we should get you out of that ski suit."

"You shouldn't have bothered Soval."

"I don't want to take any chances. It's my fault you got injured in the first place."

"Jonathan—"

"No arguments. Think you can sit up?"

She tried to and the room began to spin. Jonathan started to unzip the front of her suit. She moved away from him. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you out of your suit and getting you into your PJs. Wouldn't that be more comfortable?"

"My head…it really hurts."

"Is it getting worse?" He was worried now. Hopefully Sarah and the doctor would be here soon.

She inhaled deeply and concentrated on her breathing. That seemed to help. "I'm all right, Jonathan."

"Well I wouldn't say that. Hang in there, it won't be long. Boy, I wish Phlox were here."

"He went to see…Feezal."

"I know."

"She's his wife."

"I know, T'Pol."

"Phlox is polygamous…that means he has more than one wife."

"That's right." Why was she stating the obvious? He finally managed to get her ski suit off. She shivered dressed only in her underwear. She seemed more co-operative now that she was cold. He helped her slip on her PJs and get under the covers.

"I'm in your bed," T'Pol noted.

"Yes. Is that okay?"

"It is…comfortable." She lay her head against the pillow. "I'm thirsty."

He suggested some hot tea and she said she wanted coffee. "T'Pol you never drink coffee."

"I would like to try it."

"Okay, be right back." She was acting different. The bump on her head seemed to be affecting her.

He went to the kitchen and put the coffee on. He offered Hans a cup that he agreed to.

"How's she doing?" Hans asked.

"I think she'll be okay. Though she's acting a little strange."

"In what way?"

"It's probably nothing. She's telling me about stuff I already know as if I don't know it." He carried a mug of coffee over to Hans.

He glanced at his wristwatch. Sarah should be here any minute; it had almost been an hour. He'd contacted Soval privately at his home in Sausalito and the Ambassador had recommended his own private physician which he'd contacted and asked to be ready for when Sarah arrived.

He return to T'Pol's side with coffee and a glass of water. "I made it black."

"I'd like it with milk."

"T'Pol, you don't consume dairy."

"I don't?"

Her head was throbbing. She didn't remember. She took the mug from Archer and sipped the black steaming liquid. She was unsure if she liked or disliked it. It had a strong bitter taste.

Jonathan sat by her on the bed.

"Your eyes…they're very green," she said, almost as if she were seeing them for the first time.

"Yup, from my mother's side of the family. How you feeling?"

"Are you going to ask me that every five minutes?" She sounded annoyed. He let it go, he'd probably be annoyed too if he had a pounding headache.

There was a knock on the front door. He presumed it was Sarah with the Vulcan doctor. He heard Hans answer and lead them to the bedroom.

They all entered and the doctor introduced herself as Dr. Seral. Jonathan had no idea Soval had a female physician. She looked about the same age as T'Pol.

"I would appreciate you all leaving the room so I can examine the patient," Dr. Seral requested. Sarah and Hans both exited.

"Jonathan is to stay," T'Pol replied.

The two Vulcan women eyed each other. Jonathan wondered if the doctor was curious about the relationship between himself and T'Pol.

"As you wish," Seral replied. She ran her scanner over T'Pol.

"How did you incur this injury?" she asked.

"I was skiing."

The Vulcan raised her eyebrow. "A foolish and reckless human sport."

"I find it…pleasing."

"I see living amongst humans for all this time has de-Vulcanised you, T'Pol."

T'Pol didn't wish to argue with the doctor. "What is my condition? Can you give me something for the pain?"

"It shouldn't be that grave. My scans show only mild bruising to your skull."

"Whatever your scans show, T'Pol isn't lying, Doctor," Jonathan interjected. This woman had no bedside manner whatsoever.

"Very well." Dr. Seral retrieved a hypospray from her medical bag and injected T'Pol in the neck. "How do you feel?"

The pain disappeared in a matter of seconds and she now felt a little light-headed, as if she'd consumed too much alcohol. "Better…thank you."

"It's a new drug developed specifically for head injuries. This along with plenty of rest and consumption of fluids is the only treatment I would recommend at this point. There is no brain damage and the trauma you experienced was slight. I'll leave a hypospray in case you need another dose in 12 hours. But don't take it before."

T'Pol nodded.

"She seemed a little disorientated earlier…and didn't sound like herself," Jonathan added.

"That is normal, Captain. Give it 24 hours. If she's made no improvement, I suggest you contact me again. I believe you'll notice a vast improvement by morning. The Vulcan brain is very resilient…unlike its human equivalent."

Jonathan got the feeling she didn't care for humans, or at least looked down on them.

"Can I go back to skiing in a day or two?" T'Pol asked.

"You'd take up the foolish sport again after this accident?"

"I'll be more careful."

"Then it's entirely your decision, T'Pol."

"Thank you, Dr. Seral."

"Vulcans don't thank each other. Another human custom you've obviously picked up." With that the doctor packed up her medical bag and left. Jonathan walked her down the hall.

"T'Pol is in your sleeping quarters, is she not, Captain?"

Oh boy! "Yes, that is my bedroom."

"I see. It is logical to assume you are in a relationship with her. It is fortunate she is no longer a member of the Vulcan High Command."

"Why?"

"If I'm not mistaken you are the second human she's entered into a relationship with onboard your ship. I could have explained one as scientific curiosity…but two?"

"That's up to T'Pol, isn't it?" he countered.

"Of course. I suppose she prefers human males to Vulcan — most unusual."

"It's her choice," he reiterated.

"Yes, Captain. Though it makes one wonder just how living amongst humans can affect a Vulcan's sensibilities. I believe the T'Pol you met several years would be as aghast as I am at the idea of an interspecies relationship."

"To be honest, Doctor, I also shared your opinion at the time. People change."

"Fascinating. Perhaps I should write a paper on it."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Don't look so frightened, Captain. A bit of Vulcan humour. It is not my business what T'Pol or any other Vulcan wishes to do in their private lives. I was expressing my opinion, nothing more."

They met up with Sarah. "I'll be happy to take you back to Sausalito, Doctor."

"That would be acceptable.""Sure you don't mind Sarah?" Jonathan asked. "I can do it, if you or Hans stay with T'Pol."

"Not a problem, Jonathan."

Jonathan accompanied Sarah and Dr. Seral to the shuttlepod, thanking the Vulcan for her help even though he knew she didn't wish to hear it.

"If she does attempt those slopes again, Captain, perhaps you'll keep a better eye on her." Seral suggested.

"Of course, Doctor." He thanked her once more and closed the door to the shuttle. On returning to his bedroom he found Hans saying goodbye to T'Pol.

"I better be on my way, Captain."

"Thanks for all your help, Hans."

"Your welcome." Jonathan showed him out. "Take care of T'Pol, she's a special lady."

"I know and I will." He closed the door behind Hans and went back to the bedroom to check on T'Pol.

"How's the patient doing?"

"A little hungry and tired. Otherwise, I feel much better."

He said he could make her some rice with vegetables or pasta if she preferred. It was getting close to dinnertime and he felt a little hungry himself. She chose the rice.

"I'm going to rest while you cook," she told him. "If I fall asleep, will you wake me up when the meal is ready?"

"Of course." She turned onto her side and closed her eyes.

Jonathan stood over her for a moment, just admiring her — she was so beautiful. He loved her long eyelashes, her full lips, her Vulcan eyebrows and her adorable ears. It had been a close call today; fate had been on his side. T'Pol's injury could easily have been a lot worse.

She opened one eye and looked up at him. "Are you going to stand there and stare at me, or make me something to eat?"

"I'm off to the kitchen this very instant."

He smiled to himself. Sounded like she was feeling better already.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Christmas at Lake Tahoe**

**Chapter 8  
**  
_She was dressed in a long white gown, walking towards Jonathan at the end of the aisle. He was in a tuxedo and held his hand out to her. As she accepted he smiled at her, whispering how beautiful she looked. _

_"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse for richer for poorer…"_

_She glanced in front of her to the man asking her this. Her head ached. She wanted to answer yes but the words wouldn't come out of her mouth. Jonathan asked her what was wrong but she couldn't reply. _

_"What kind of Vulcan are you, marrying a human?" She looked to her right. It was V'Lara, her mother's sister. "And in a white dress, just like a human! Why not have your ears reshaped as well? You should be ex-communicated from Vulcan society!"_

_"She's always had a fondness for humans," Soval interjected. _

_"It is puzzling…I don't see the attraction. They are interesting specimens to study…but certainly not marry." Dr. Seral stood in front of her, looking down at her with a disapproving glare. _

_"Nothin' wrong with us humans." Trip came bounding in. "I don't blame T'Pol for liking us — we're a much friendlier bunch."_

_"Who is this?" V'Lara asked._

_"Her first human lover," Seral answered._

_"Your poor mother, T'Pol. I'm glad she didn't live to see this."_

_T'Pol clutched her head — the pain was excruciating! And where did all these people come from? They weren't invited. _

_"Ignore them," Jonathan told her. "Proceed," he instructed the man marrying them. _

_The man seemed confused and rifled through a leather bound book in his hand. "Ah, yes, I think I was here…if anyone present can show just and legal cause why they may not be joined, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."_

_"We already had this part," Jonathan stated._

_"Seems I turned up in the nick of time," Trip interjected. "I object."_

_"As do I," chimed in V'Lara._

_"You said you didn't love him," Jonathan said to T'Pol. "What's Trip doing here, T'Pol?"_

_"I don't," T'Pol answered, finally finding her voice. She felt dizzy and nauseous. _

_"I knew it all along…this is just a game to you, isn't it?" Jonathan face became red with anger. _

_"No," she answered. "How can you say that, Jonathan?" She felt unjustly accused. _

_"Face it Jon, it's always been me she wanted. From that first decon session we had, it was written on the cards."_

_Jonathan left T'Pol's side and punched Trip in the face. He went flying. Dr. Seral went to attend to him, getting out her scanner. "He has a broken nose, Captain."_

_V'Lara took T'Pol's arm. "Come along, T'Pol. We're going home to Vulcan, and you're undergoing the Kolinahr. Perhaps we can purge these illogical urges you have to be with earth men."_

_"Let me go!" T'Pol shouted. _

_"A human and a Vulcan — not logical," Seral interjected. _

_"You need to spend time with your own kind," Soval advised. _

_"Do you still love Trip?" Jonathan asked, pulling her away from V'Lara. _

_"No, but you obviously don't believe me." Her head was throbbing, and the room began to spin. The faces of Trip, Jonathan, V'Lara, Seral, Soval and the rest of the guests all began to mesh together. She continued to hear their voices, despite not making out their faces. Their voices began to merge…no longer making any sense and then everything went black. _

_As her vision cleared she found herself standing by Mount Seleya, in a Vulcan red robe. The wind was blowing through her hair. _

_"You should have stayed with me, T'Pol." She looked to her left and found Koss standing next to her, in his wedding robes. "Marriage to me was hardly shameful. You would have remained a respected Vulcan."_

_"Where's Jonathan?" she asked._

_"Forget him…"_

_"He loved me, I need him."_

_"He's gone, T'Pol. It was not meant to be."_

_"No, you're wrong…it was…it is…"_

_The wind began to pick up speed, and the landscape changed. Koss disappeared. She shivered as the snow fell around her. She was standing on a mountainside, surrounded by trees. She was in the white wedding dress again, and the cold penetrated right through it. She felt lost and alone. In the distance she could barely make out a man walking towards her. She focused in on him. It was Jonathan! _

_As he approached she saw he wasn't alone. He was with a woman, but T'Pol couldn't make out her face. They were holding hands. He walked straight past T'Pol, giving her a mere glance and continuing on his way. She called to him but with no response. Then he stopped. For a moment she thought he would retrace his steps and come to her. The woman wrapped her arms around Jonathan and began to kiss him. T'Pol noted a gold band on the woman's finger. _

_"Jonathan!" T'Pol cried._

"T'Pol, I'm right here. Wake up!"

T'Pol opened her eyes. She was in Jonathan's bedroom in Lake Tahoe. "You're here," she said catching her breath.

"Of course I am. Where else would I be?" he smiled, brushing the hair from her face. "You okay? You don't normally shout."

"I shouted?"

He nodded.

"I had a peculiar dream…the imagery was disturbing. It must be a side effect of the medication."

"Sounds like it. You don't normally dream do you?" he asked, recalling a conversation they'd had about dreams almost four years ago after she was attacked by Tolaris.

"No." The only other dream she'd experienced had been her Trellium induced nightmare of attacking Trip. "You told me once that you enjoyed dreaming."

"For the most part, yes. But believe me, nightmares are no fun."

"They seem to be the only kind of dreams I experience."

"T'Pol, I'm sorry." He stroked her cheek. "Did you want to talk about it?"

"It was an amalgamation of my thoughts and fears. The last part I was back on the mountainside where you rescued me, in the snow."

"What was so nightmarish about that?"

"In the dream you walked straight passed me, as if I wasn't even there, and just left me."

Jonathan was horrified at the imagery her mind had created. He'd never imagined that T'Pol could feel insecure about his feelings for her, or that her subconscious would think that.

He gathered her up in his arms. "It was just a dream. If you only knew how worried sick I'd been about you. I was frantic. When you contacted me in the shuttle and I heard your voice, I was overjoyed."

"I believe you. Don't be concerned. I'm sure it is a side effect of the medication."

He kissed her on the forehead. "Glad to hear that. I was just getting a tray prepared for you when I heard you call my name and I rushed in here. Let me go get your dinner."

She nodded and propped up the pillows behind her. What an unusual set of images, she thought. Koss appearing was strange, she hadn't thought of him in months. She wasn't that surprised by Dr. Seral's appearance. She'd made no qualms about her feelings. Anything to do with human activities she appeared to condemn. As for her aunt, well she surmised that although she hadn't given it much conscious thought the letter she'd received two nights ago had bothered her.

Jonathan brought her food in on a tray and placed it on the bed. "This looks delicious," she noted. "Thank you." He smiled and got up. "Will you not sit with me?" she asked.

"I'm just going to get my own plate. Of course I'll sit with you."

When he returned he pulled up a chair to sit across from her and had his own tray across his lap. "So how you feeling…despite the bad dream?"

"Sleepy…but the pain has diminished." She ate a few forkfuls of food. "Jonathan, in the hospital…I tried to tell you something."

"You weren't feeling yourself."

"No…it is important. There is something I feel you misunderstand, and it needs to be clarified."

"Well whatever it is I'm sure it can wait till tomorrow. Eat up before your food gets cold."

"I can eat and talk at the same time. Isn't that what humans do at mealtimes?"

"Sure," he smiled," but I don't think in your condition that we should get into any serious discussions. And I'm pretty sure Dr. Seral would have my hide if she knew you weren't resting, but sitting up talking with me."

"Oh." Maybe it could wait till tomorrow. Jonathan wasn't going anywhere…like in her dream. "She knows about us, doesn't she?"

"She insinuated that she did. Does it concern you?"

"No, not at all. And you?"

"No."

He hadn't really had time to think about it. It wasn't as if what some Vulcan doctor thought or said would make any difference. And T'Pol was a member of Starfleet; she didn't fall under Vulcan jurisdiction. Seral might even mention it to Soval. The question was would Soval tell Gardener? If that did happen…well he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

"Are you certain?" She'd told Hans they were only friends, in an effort to keep their relationship a secret, which she assumed was what he wanted.

"T'Pol, it is something we need to discuss at some point, but now isn't the time. My main concern is your well being. I want you to get plenty of rest." He wanted to stir the conversation away from the serious path it was taking.

She finished her rice and asked if he could help her to the bathroom. She pulled the covers back and as she tried to stand on her two feet began to feel dizzy. Jonathan put his arm around her and instructed her to lean on him. He even offered to carry her but she told him it wasn't necessary.

He hovered over her as she brushed her teeth and washed her face, making sure she wouldn't lose her balance.

"I think I'd like to take a shower." She wanted to go to sleep feeling fresh and clean.

"I don't know if that's wise," Jonathan said. He was worried she could slip or get dizzy again.

"Then why don't you join me?" she suggested.

"Okay, but it will have to be quick. I don't want you getting dizzy and making your condition worse."

"I will be fine."

They undressed and Jonathan turned the shower dial, checking the water temperature with his hand before entering the cubicle. He helped her inside, standing behind her, ready to catch her if she faltered.

She reached for the soap but it slipped out of her hands and fell onto the cubicle floor.

"I'll get it," he said, bending down and picking it up. He soaped his hands up. "If you'll permit me—"

"Yes, it would be easier."

He soaped up her back and shoulders, then moved down her waist and legs. It was hard to do this and not admire her beautiful feminine form. She was the most gorgeous woman he'd laid eyes upon — perfect in every way. He instructed her to turn around.

"I think I can handle this part," she said, taking the soap from him. When she finished she moved directly under the shower to rinse the soap off. In the process her hair became drenched. She pushed it back, out of her face.

"Do you have any shampoo?"

"You want to fuss with your hair now? I thought we said this was going to be brief."

"While we argue over it, yes it will take longer."

He got the message and reached out of the shower for the shampoo that he kept in the cabinet above the wash basin. Squirting some of it into his hand he massaged it into her hair.

"How's the dizziness?" he asked with concern.

"It has passed."

"Okay, you can rinse off. Your hair is done."

She thanked him and dunked her head under the spray, closing her eyes. He stepped out of the shower first, getting her a towel and holding his hand out to her. She took it and wrapped herself in the towel he offered.

She noted he was standing in the nude, dripping water onto the bathroom floor. She reached over to the towel rail and passed him a towel. "Here, now you won't drip water onto the carpet."

"T'Pol, you don't sound like yourself." Why would she care? That was something a wife, or the owner of the house — namely him, would worry about. Wrapping the towel around his waist he escorted her back to the bedroom and sat her down on the bed.

"Do you feel light-headed or dizzy?" he asked.

"No, I feel fresh and clean. Thank you for your assistance."

"Let me get you another towel for your hair." He returned with it and lightly massaged her hair dry. "You want to comb it out or shall I?"

She answered that she would and asked him to get her hairbrush from the guestroom. While he went to do so she slipped into her PJs and climbed into bed. He handed her the brush on his return. Then he slipped on a pair of jogging bottoms and a sweatshirt.

As she brushed her hair he sat on the bed by her side. "I'm fine."

"What?"

"I can see it on the tip of your tongue, Jonathan. You want to ask me again if I am feeling well. The answer is yes. I appreciate your concern, but there's no need to over do it."

"I didn't realize I was."

"I believe you cannot help it. It is part of your human nature. Humans expend a lot of energy worrying."

"I suppose we do. But it's usually about those we care about."

"I understand. As for the comment about the carpet, that was just my feminine instinct coming out. It has nothing to do with my concussion."

"Okay." Guess she was right — her quarters on Enterprise were the neatest of the entire ship. "I'll get you some water for the night," he said noting the glass on the bedside table was empty.

Upon his return he tucked the covers around her, and inquired once more as to her comfort. She assured him all was well.

"You'll join me later?" she asked.

"If you'd like me to. But you might be more comfortable on your own."

"No. I'd prefer if you were with me."

"Then I will be," he promised. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. "I wish you a dreamless sleep. Goodnight, sweetheart."

She closed her eyes and he returned to the kitchen to clear up.

* * *

Around 8pm he checked in on T'Pol and found her to be sound asleep. He tiptoed out of his bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar in case she woke up abruptly and called to him. Hopefully she wouldn't have any more bad dreams. Nightmares were disconcerting for humans; he could hardly imagine how scary they must be for someone who rarely had dreams.

He threw some more wood on the fire, poured himself a drink and curled up with his book of Yeats poetry. He'd read a few poems when he heard a knock on the door. He stood up to answer. As he opened the door he found Sarah standing on the other side.

"Come in," he invited.

He led her into the living room, then returned to his room and gently closed the door.

"How's she doing?" Sarah asked, as Jonathan sat down on the sofa.

"Well she's sleeping now."

"That's good. I'm sure she'll be okay."

"Thanks again for all your help. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it, Jonathan."

"Did you want a drink?" he offered. She said coffee would be great so he put the percolator on.

"How was the journey back with Seral?" he asked from the kitchen.

"Oh she was pleasant enough," Sarah answered.

"Well I got the feeling she didn't care for me."

"Hmm…"

"She say something to you, Sarah?" He returned to the living room with her coffee.

"No, it was more about T'Pol. She seemed perplexed as to why a member of her race would be so attached to humans. I suppose being a logical race Vulcans try to explain everything in a logical fashion. T'Pol's relationships with humans…I got the impression she didn't deem them very logical."

"Yeah…I got the same impression."

"You should have told me, Jonathan."

"Told you what?" He didn't know what she was referring to.

"How wrong I was. Here I was thinking you and T'Pol are just friends, and it seems I'm way off the mark."

No point in denying it now. He remembered that when Sarah had arrived with Seral she'd shown her to his bedroom, where T'Pol had been in his bed. Being far more concerned with T'Pol's diagnosis and recovery, he hadn't considered what anyone would think of T'Pol staying in his room until Seral had mentioned it to him on her way out.

"I wanted to be discreet."

"That's understandable. But you should have told me Christmas night. Why did you go to dinner with me?"

"I thought it was just dinner — no strings attached."

"There weren't any strings. But you're an attractive man, can't blame me for trying," she smiled.

He felt a little embarrassed. "I'll take it as a compliment."

"As intended."

"Sarah, I did enjoy your company and didn't really fancy spending the evening alone. That's why I accepted your dinner invitation. I had no idea T'Pol was on the way up."

"Ah, I see. So this is a new development?"

He seemed hesitant to answer.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, Jonathan. And it isn't my business. I'm sorry for what I said the other day about her and Trip and all that gossip."

"It's not as if you were spreading it."

"Whatever is between you and T'Pol, if you wish it to remain secret I won't say a word to anyone. You have my word on that."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate it."

"However, the other day you should have just said you couldn't meet me for a drink in San Francisco. I suppose you were trying to be polite and discreet at the same time."

"Something like that, but not doing a good job of it. I'm sorry. I should have been straight with you."

"No harm done, Jonathan."

"You're a good sport, Sarah. Listen, I'm glad you stopped by, because I wanted to say if you're still interested I was going to put in a recommendation to Erika Hernandez to have you on Columbia."

"You'd do that?"

"It's the least I can do. In fact last I heard Erika's first officer is seeking a transfer. I think you'd be perfect."

"But my experience is in security."

"Consider this a promotion. I can't promise, but I can bend Erika's ear. She seems to think I know what I'm talking about."

"I'd really appreciate it."

"You wouldn't be homesick for Earth?"

"No, I've wanted this a long time."

"Okay, then I promise to get in touch with Erika as soon as I get back to San Francisco."

Sarah thanked him again and finished her coffee. They talked a little more then she said she'd better be getting back to her hotel. There was a poker tournament on tonight and she was taking part. She called for a taxi, explaining that she'd left her shuttlepod at the hotel.

"Good luck then. You betting all those slot winnings?"

"No, about half. I think luck is on my side this trip. Anyway, say hi to T'Pol from me, and I hope she feels better tomorrow."

"I will and thanks again."

She smiled and he walked her to the taxi. "T'Pol's a lucky woman."

"I think I'm the lucky one," he answered.

"Goodnight, Jonathan." She stepped inside and the vehicle drove off.

* * *

He used the guest bathroom to prepare for bed, not wanting to wake T'Pol up. He entered his room and tiptoed across the floor. Disrobing he pulled back the covers and slipped into bed beside T'Pol.

He tried not to move too much as he got comfortable. He turned onto his side, watching her as she slept facing him. Her eyelids slowly opened.

"What time is it?"

"Just after midnight. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I've been awake for a while, just resting."

"How you feeling?" Then he remembered she didn't like him asking, but it was too late.

"I am fine. Was someone here earlier?" She'd been sure she'd heard voices.

"Sarah stopped by."

"I wish I'd been fully awake. I would like to thank her personally."

"I'm sure you can do that another day."

"Yes…and Hans. They were both kind." She then realized Jonathan must be tired himself, it had been a long day. She shouldn't bother him with conversation. "We should both go to sleep then."

"Sounds like a good idea," he agreed.

She moved closer to him, so their bodies were touching. She ran her hand down his bare back in a gentle caress. "I'm glad you sleep shirtless," she whispered.

Jonathan lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. He could sense his body wanted more than just a goodnight kiss, but that would have to wait. T'Pol was in no condition for such activities. The kiss ended with both of them a little breathless. They gazed into each other's eyes.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For just being you — even asking how I am more than twenty times a day."

"I don't think it was twenty."

"An exaggeration on my part. But your concern is appreciated."

"Thanks. As for being me, last time I checked I was being a royal pain in the ass."

"You can be at times…but I believe we can remedy that. And no one is perfect, not even this Vulcan."

That was a concession. "You're perfect in my eyes, T'Pol — in every way."

She assumed that was a man in love speaking. She'd read somewhere once that in the first few months of a new relationship human partners always viewed each other in a perfect light, being blind to each other's faults.

She caressed his cheek and locked eyes with him. She could stare into those eyes of his endlessly. In them she could read the love he felt for her. They were gentle, kind but also passionate. Without thinking she found herself kissing him, desire bubbling inside her.

"T'Pol…as much as I'd like to—"

"Yes, you're correct. I was being illogical. I'm sure Dr Seral would highly disapprove."

He laughed at the thought of the Vulcan doctor. "We should try and get some sleep now."

She agreed and said goodnight. She snuggled up to him, resting her head on his chest, using it as a pillow. She asked if that was comfortable for him.

"Having you close is always comfortable, sweetheart." He coiled his arm around her shoulder.

She liked that term, especially the way Jonathan whispered it to her. It was almost melodious. She closed her eyes and found herself drifting off, listening to Jonathan's regular breathing.

TBC


End file.
